


DEARBORN

by Lilac_Skies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Begins during Goblet Of Fire, F/M, Multi, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, altered timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 103,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26979595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilac_Skies/pseuds/Lilac_Skies
Summary: Madeline Bisset lost her father, Caradoc Dearborn, to the first Wizarding War.After rumours of the Dark Lord returning begin circulating, Madeline leaves her peaceful life in France to find refuge in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, fearing she may no longer be safe in her own home. However, not realising that perhaps she might just be the key to saving the world.There is a difference between being great and being safe; taking the easy path or taking the right path.- Begins during Goblet of Fire -Chapters 1-21: Goblet of FireChapters 22-Ongoing: Order Of The PhoenixFred Weasley/OFCEventual Draco Malfoy/OFC
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Original Female Character (Friendship), Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 33
Kudos: 119





	1. PROLOGUE

_**PROLOGUE** _

_  
Italics (Speech)= Spoken in French_

In the luxuries of high society, you may be gifted tinted rose glasses; with no knowledge that the world is truly a maddening place.

It was a warm summer's night. The sun had long since set, the grounds of the Bisset mansion shrouded in darkness, except for the soft golden light emitting from the chandeliers and floating candles inside the mansions' grand ballroom. A light bustling of voices could be heard amongst the skilfully played violins, breathing life into the gilded golden room. The enchanting music filled the air, laughter accompanying it like a harmony.

In aristocratic society, life may not change as quickly as one may think. In fact, you could even live with the monotony of life and be content. 

In the comfort of the French mansion, Madeline Bisset was far more concerned with not stepping on her partners' shoes during the waltz than what the future may bring. For you see, she was one of the few gifted with the ignorance to life; privileged enough to be unaware of what was to come.

 _"A lovely night, isn't it?"_ Adam Louis asked Madeline, her face turned away to peer at the charming couples around them.

 _"What makes this night any more special than the last?"_ Madeline asked, her face still turned away as they danced, _"A ball should make no difference to how lovely a night might be."  
  
"You," _Adam replied, a small smirk on his face as her eyes finally met his, _"Your beauty is most certainly something that should be celebrated."  
  
"We're far too young for you to put such importance on these things," _Madeline scoffed, _"You should be more preoccupied about not stepping on my toes, which by the way, you've been doing."_

 _"I've always known that Bisset women were uptight, but you are a whole other story,"_ Adam's smirk dropped, as did the hand that was settled on Madeline's waist. The music came to a stop, Adam having already made a swift exit before the other couples had finished their curtsies. Madeline simply watched him storm away, a faint smile on her face as she waved him off.

Entitled men truly were an entire different species. She swore that you could cut a man and he'd bleed audacity.¹

Smiling politely at the few acquaintances around her, Madeline made her way to the side of the room to collect a drink. It had been, after all, a _gruelling_ twenty minutes of pointedly ignoring Adam's advances. She took a sip of the dark purple liquid, unfazed as her mother, Eloise Bisset, stood alongside her, waiting for the music to return before speaking.

"The Louis boy left the party," Eloise mused, " _Care to explain why?"_

 _"Ego is not a criteria I look for in a man, and I'd appreciate it if you told Grandma to stop trying to set me up to create an heir to her fortune,"_ Madeline shrugged, walking with her mother to a secluded corner of the gilded room.

"Oh thank Goodness, _you're far too good for him,"_ Eloise sighed, _"His French was rather unrefined, and his dancing? Atrocious."_

 _"Thank you mother for your fine review of my suitors,"_ Madeline laughed, _"I don't understand why Grandma insists on these events; they're so performative. She's only inviting these people to find me a hand in marriage, which quite frankly, is a little offensive, not to mention prehistoric."_

 _"You should enjoy it while it lasts,"_ Eloise looked away wistfully, a sad smile on her face. However, this was most definitely not missed by her bright and beautiful daughter.

"Is there something you're not telling me? Because you never usually support Grandma's madness," Madeline asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. However, it was enough for her mother to turn back to her.

 _"We can't speak here,"_ her mother whispered, her tone serious as she began taking the cup from her daughter's hand and briskly walking to the glass door behind them.

Both women slid through the small crack in the door quickly, as if the two had years of practice with fleeing aristocratic events (which they did, but they'd never admit unless behind closed doors). They both understood that some conversations should be had far away from prying ears and eyes.

"Things are changing in the world, Madeline," Eloise began, her back turned to her daughter as she stared out onto the darkened grounds of her mansion, "There is something coming, my darling. Something dark that your father gave his life to protect us from. Something I've spent your entire life protecting you from."

Madeline froze, "It can't be-"

"I don't know and there is no way to be sure," Eloise admitted, her hand on the railing in front of her tightening, "I have done all that I can to keep you away from that world, but with dark times coming, we can no longer trust family to keep us safe."

" _Maman_ what are you implying?" Madeline asked shakily, her hands pinned to her sides, as if they'd reach out to hold her mother if she didn't stop them, "Is he... Is he back?"

"An old friend of your father's had reached out to me a few weeks ago," Eloise began, slipping a folded parchment out of her dress pocket, "Your father was a good man, but my family was not, and perhaps still isn't. And you'll be much safer with his."

Shakily, Madeline took the parchment from her mothers outstretched hands, meeting her gaze. Her mother had always been a strong, independent and fierce woman, who would stop at nothing to protect the wellbeing of those close to her. She'd seen her mother during the highs and lows of her formidable career, but this moment was incomparable to anything she'd ever seen her mother deal with.

Slowly, she unfolded the crinkled parchment. As she did, it seemed the folds themselves vanished, a pristine letter lying in the palms of her hands.

_Dear Miss Madeline Bisset,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

* * *

_¹Quote by Florence Given (Women Don't Owe You Pretty)_


	2. 1: Hogwarts

_'October 31st,_ _1981_

_The defeat of Voldemort.'_

_Eloise Bisset inhaled deeply, removing her quill from the parchment. It was painful, to remember all the events of the last few weeks, but she knew that if he husband were here, he'd insist on it being recorded, no matter how painful it may be._

_Eloise stroked the feather of her quill, a gift from her husband only a year before. Now, he was nowhere to be found, leaving her alone with a lifetime of work to carry forward for him._

_Well, she wasn't_ exactly _alone._

_Eloise turned to her left, peering into the elegant wooden crib. In the faint candle light, she could make out the features of her sleeping daughter, lost in peaceful dreams and happy fantasies. Eloise gently traced the young girls' cheek with the tip of her finger, a smile so loving only a parent would be able to hold. Even in her infancy, Eloise knew that Madeline would grow up to be just like her father; brave, strong, resourceful, and determined. Eloise had spent the first few weeks after the war awaiting his return, but weeks turned into months, and soon enough, he was mourned by those who fought by his side._

_Eloise pulled herself back into her desk chair, toying with the edge of the feathered quill. Caradoc Dearborn may have disappeared, but he left behind something precious, something so terrifyingly special that it scared the young mother to her very core._

_With a deep breath, she kept writing._

* * *

Madeline Bisset's arrival at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was in fact _not_ a surprise.

The many animated portraits turned and watched as she briskly walked through the castle corridors. She was, without a doubt, a beauty that may only rival that of the sunrise over the Black Lake. She was well-postured, her hands held clasped behind her back as she followed Professor Minerva McGonagall, wearing robes that you could most definitely not identify her with. They were dark and unmarked, like a Hogwarts uniform, but clearly belonging to no specific house.

Madeline's eyes wandered over the twists and turns of the castle, grey eyes piercing through the portraits as they dared to look at her. Her features seemed unblemished (a charm her grandmother had insisted on teaching her), with slightly plump rosy lips and the faintest constellations of freckles, now fading. Her eyes held up small bags below them, decorated with a faint dark circle she never truly managed to sleep away. Her nose was perhaps the most recognisable part of her features that truly distinguished her as a Bisset; slightly upturned and thin, contrasting the thick dark eyebrows which were clearly from her father's side of the family.

"Hogwarts carries centuries of honour, history, and magic," Professor McGonagall spoke, her elegant and authoritative voice drawing all attention to her, "We very rarely do have such a last minute transfer, but the Headmaster seemed _very_ keen to have you here."

Madeline didn't reply; she didn't need to. Instead, she listened as Professor McGonagall proudly spoke about the school, and of course, it's rules. All of which Madeline had studied only a few nights prior, when she'd discovered of her transfer.

_"Do not leave the grounds at any cost,"_ her mother had warned her, _"Dumbledore has assured me that he will protect you in the school, but we cannot risk you leaving."_

_"The allies you make are important, but never let them too close. You won't know who to trust until it's too late."_

_"Under no circumstance should you tell anybody who your father is if you can help it. Enemies could lie at every corner."_

"You'll be sorted into your house in the Great Hall along with the first years, although you will be in your fourth year classes and dormitories as discussed," McGonagall assured her as they climbed a narrow set of stone steps, "The students won't be arriving for an hour, but the Headmaster wishes to speak to you first."

"Of course," Madeline replied, the first words she'd spoken since she'd introduced upon her arrival.

Changes like this should feel daunting, but to Madeline, they didn't. Hogwarts had a reputation that almost made things... Exciting.

To all but her own mother, Madeline was thought to have left her small French town in favour of an exciting 'scholarship' overseas, one which could carry her through to the end of her education despite her prior homeschooling. Her mother had once been a Beauxbatons Professor, proving to be the perfect educator for her daughter. It was no surprise for a girl of Madeline's skills to be invited to Hogwarts for her fourth year.

But the reality was much more bleak than a simple scholarship. Madeline wasn't safe in her own home, and unbeknownst to her, wouldn't be for a long time.

The two women stopped in front of a large phoenix gargoyle, it's wings curved and glistening with golden stone feathers. Professor McGonagall stepped into the alcove, whispering a word to the gargoyle before stepping back next to Madeline. Almost instantly, the gargoyle twisted and turned, lifting to reveal a spiral staircase; the entrance to the Headmasters office.

"Go ahead," Professor McGonagall prompted, a small smile on her face, "He's waiting for you."

Madeline nodded, placing her hand on the wall and briskly making her way up the stone steps. The gargoyle moved with her, turning and twisting and bringing her higher up. McGonagall was far gone by the time she'd reached the top, whisked off by the prospect of greeting the first year students. This left Madeline on her own, standing in front of a large gilded door, adorned with two large torches, lit with fire as bright as a phoenix itself.

She wiped her hands against her robes, surprisingly finding herself nervous, before knocking on the large door. It swung open instantly, as if it were expecting her. She didn't need to be called in, walking through the doorway before the door could swing back onto her.

The room was intricately decorated with any and all magical objects you could possibly imagine. It wasn't very large, but it was most definitely taller than any other room she'd been in inside the castle. It was breathtaking, and a little overwhelming. Her eyes scanned the dozens of shelves, stacked high with books upon books upon trinkets. Her gaze finally fell to the large desk in front of her, where a man slowly stood.

"Ah; good evening Miss Bisset," an old bearded man smiled as he stood, gesturing her towards an empty chair across his desk, "Care for a drink?"

"No, thank you," she replied, seating herself slowly, "Are you a friend of my mothers?"

"Your father, actually," Dumbledore answered as he too sat down, peering at her over his half-moon spectacles, "I knew him for a short while. He was a great man; resourceful, and really quite clever."

"I have heard," Madeline answered, her eyes trained on the wooden desk and she sat on her hands, "I never got to meet him."

"He was a student here years ago," Dumbledore leant back in his chair, "A troublemaker, actually. But he always knew the difference between what was right and what was easy... Much like you it seems. Has your mother informed you of the situation?"

"Eloise Bisset thrives on mystery, Headmaster," Madeline replied, a fond smile on her face, "She thought it best for you to explain."

"Ah, she did seem to be quite the formidable woman," Dumbledore smiled briefly, his face turning serious, "There are great threats heading our way, and your family is most certainly not in a favourable position."

"My mother's side of the family supported He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, yes," Madeline's lips pursed painfully, almost a straight line.

"And your father was amongst some of the bravest men I ever met, to openly oppose him without fear. In fact, and I'm not sure if you know this, but your parents had quite a... Romeo and Juliet struggle," Dumbledore finished with a smile, "Your mother thought it best to have you under the protection of Hogwarts, away from your family, just in case the rumours flying in the Wizarding World have some foundation to them."

"And what are these rumours, Headmaster?" Madeline pressed, "And why would anyone try to hurt _me?_ "

"Something dark is coming, Madeline," Dumbledore leant forwards towards the girl, "You, my dear, have an unfortunate affliction with both sides, and a lot of people won't like that. You have your own path to choose, one that your own family tree cannot choose for you."

"My father didn't die in the Wizarding War," Madeline pressed, leaning forwards with determination in her eyes, "His body was never found. He went missing after Death Eaters attacked him, but there was _never a body_. So, Headmaster; does this have anything to do with why I'm here?"

Dumbledore watched the girl for a few moments, and to her surprise, he _smiled_ , "You have his fire and determination, it seems. Nevertheless; a body wasn't found, nor were a lot of people after the war. Your father was grieved with them. To my knowledge, no; your father's disappearance during the war has nothing to do with you here in Hogwarts."

Madeline sighed, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her temple, "It's going to be quite a year, isn't it?"

Dumbledore smiled, standing and offering his hand to the girl, "Shall we go to dinner? I hear that it's going to be quite delicious tonight. After all, it is the beginning of the year."

* * *

The Great Hall came alive the moment the students returned to Hogwarts.

Life flourished from every inch of the room. Friends who hadn't seen each other for months reunited, sipping pumpkin juice out of gilded goblets and laughing along to anecdotes. The Gryffindor table was particularly rowdy, with the Weasley twins recounting their summer pranks and mischief. It was only when Dumbledore stepped up to the podium that the room fell into silence, even the floating candles staying perfectly still.

"The very best of evenings to you all," Dumbledore began, arms spread in a warm welcome, "And a very warm welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! There are many exciting things lying ahead of you all this year, but of course, let us start off this year with the Sorting Ceremony!"

Meanwhile, behind the doors leading into the Great Hall, McGonagall was also giving her own brief speech to the first years, and of course, also Madeline.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall began, with an ease that came only from repeating the speech year after year, "Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin."

"Now, while you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you house points. Each one of you has unique traits that will make you best suited for a specific house. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup."

Madeline could feel her palms begin to sweat. Her mother had briefly informed her of the different houses; her father had been a Gryffindor, and she was certain that her mother would have been a Ravenclaw, had she attended Hogwarts. But standing in front of the doors, watching them open... It made everything feel real for the first time since she'd found out about her immediate move.

Madeline held her breath as the large doors opened, revealing the most magnificent dining hall she had ever seen. It was enormous, with four long dark tables stretching towards the front of the hall, where she could see Dumbledore standing. The ceiling had been charmed into a night sky, adorned with floating candles much like the ones in her own home. Everything seemed to be kissed with a layer of golden shine, making the room feel regal, but also welcoming.

She walked behind the first years in awe, barely registering the whispers happening around her. It was only when Dumbledore called her name did she realise exactly what was happening.

"...Madeline Bisset will also be joining us here at Hogwarts for her fourth year, having transferred from overseas," Dumbledore announced, "Now, I have a few start of term notices I wish to announce. The first years please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Furthermore, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, would like me to deliver an _extra_ special reminder that curfew is, in fact, _still_ 10pm. Professor McGonagall?"

McGonagall turned to the first years and Madeline, clasping her hands together in front of herself, "When I call your name, you will come forwards, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses."

Behind the woman, Madeline could see a short stool being placed alongside the podium Dumbledore had stood at. A battered brown hat sat itself upon it, McGonagall briskly approaching it and reading from her parchment, "Annabel Bennett."

Madeline watched as the first years slowly began being sorted. From what she could gather by the students reactions, Slytherin was the least favoured house. In fact, a couple of Gryffindors had gone as far as booing when anyone was assigned Slytherin, which in her option, was quite ridiculous.

"I heard all the witches and wizards who went bad are from Slytherin," a first year girl told her friend, Madeline raising her eyebrow at the claim.

It was several minutes into the Sorting Ceremony when Madeline realised that more than a couple eyes were staring at her. In fact, it seemed that the majority of the fourth year students had been watching her, whispering to each other. She'd glared at one girl in particular from Gryffindor, who found it rather hard to keep her opinions to herself. However, she was distracted by the sound of McGonagall's voice;

"Madeline Bisset."

The room fell into silence, all eyes on her. The click of her low-heeled black shoes echoed in the hall, her head held high yet her eyes fixated on the stool. It was only when the hat was placed on her head did she squirm.

"Ah! Well aren't you an interesting one?" the Sorting Hat began speaking to her, and she quickly realised she was the only one able to hear him, "Yes, I remember your father... A Gryffindor, wasn't he? Well you have plenty of courage, but you definitely have something he didn't have... Yes, you're rather cunning, and ambition flows in your blood. You'd make a rather good fit in Gryffindor, or Slytherin."

"...And which one would keep me safe?" Madeline dared to ask.

"Ah; a clever mind, it seems. But there is something missing for you, isn't there? A need to do something important, something _great_. I think you know the answer; but tell me, would you rather be safe, or be great?"

Madeline didn't answer, and the Hat's smile turned wide.

"I see. Well, it has to be... SLYTHERIN!"

There were a few long moments of silence before the Slytherin table erupted in applause, hesitantly followed by the rest of the students. Madeline politely smiled at McGonagall, catching Dumbledore's eyes briefly before making her way to the Slytherin table, surprised to find her robes had magically changed to match the Slytherin uniform.

Two girls had made room for her with the fourth years, for which she was grateful. She sat herself down quickly, yet paid no mind to the stares thrown her way. Instead, she continued to watch the Sorting Ceremony.

Gryffindor would have kept her safe, but Slytherin would make her great.

The Sorting Ceremony soon ended, Dumbledore taking his place at the podium once more, "And finally; I'd like to introduce the new Professor for Defence Against The Dark Arts; Professor Alastor Moody."

The doors to the Great Hall opened once again, revealing a hobbling man, with matted and balding blonde hair, and most notably, a glass eye held in place by a single spectacle that seemed soldered into his sink. Everyone stared in awe and fear as the man strode across the hall, nodding once at Dumbledore before taking his seat in the empty chair behind the Headmaster, alongside the rest of the teaching staff.

"Mad as a bat, that one," a Slytherin whispered to the left of Madeline, "I heard his eye can see through _anything_."

Madeline narrowed her eyes at the new Professor. He seemed oddly familiar, yet she couldn't quite place him, as if she was staring at his reflection and not really himself. She quickly averted his eyes the moment he turned to look at her, shrugging away the strange feeling in her chest as nerves.

"This is a very exciting year for Hogwarts indeed," Dumbledore continued his speech, "But let me not keep you any longer. Let the feast begin!"

Suddenly, every table in the Great Hall filled itself with food and drink, Madeline suspected enough to feed the entire school at least twice. Trays of pork and cooked vegetables appeared in front of her, with a rather inviting bowl of mash just to her left. She could faintly hear gasps from the first year students, and instead of digging into the feast, Madeline realised something rather important.

Looking around the Great Hall, it finally dawned on her; _no one knew her._ She was no longer just Madeline Bisset, heir to the Bisset empire. She could make her own story, free of her family's influence, far far away from the small French town she'd called home all these years. Sure, Hogwarts may never be a home for her, but she had the freedom to make that choice on her own.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

Madeline turned to look at the girl sat opposite her, with long dark blonde hair and eyes that could probably pierce through ice. However, she wasn't looking at Madeline with judgement. Instead, it seemed she was... Genuinely curious?

"Just taking it all in," Madeline shrugged, the girls' eyebrows raising.

"You've captured the attention of a lot of people it seems," the girl observed, "Hogwarts doesn't get many transfer students."

Madeline shrugged, beginning to pile food onto her plate, "I'll take the obsessive staring from the entire student body as a compliment then."

At the remark, the girl grinned.

"Daphne Greengrass," the girl introduced herself, holding her hand out, "I'm pretty sure you'll be filling the empty bed in my dorm."

"Madeline," she replied, only hesitating for a moment before shaking the girls hand, "Madeline Bisset."

"I know," Daphne grinned, dropping Madeline's hand and gesturing to the table dramatically, "Welcome to Slytherin; home of the cunning, ambitious, and according to recent legend; the embodiments of evil themselves. Snakes love us; lions hate us."

"Quit the dramatics, Greengrass," a boy to Madeline's left rolled his eyes, turning to look at the new Slytherin girl, "Sorry; my _acquaintance_ here has a flare for the dramatics."

"Oh Theodore, you never let me have any fun," Daphne whined playfully, pouting at Madeline, "You see, here in Slytherin we also have Mister Nott, who loves to stamp out any and all joys in my life."

"With good reason," Theodore nodded to himself, ignoring Daphne's offended gasp and turning back to Madeline, "I assume French?"

"How did you know?" Madeline asked, ignoring the hushed whispers floating behind her.

"Bisset, although you don't have as strong of an accent as I would've guessed," Theodore shrugged, looking over his shoulder and smirking, "Gosh, no one has ever created quite a scene like this since the Golden Boy himself showed up at Hogwarts."

Madeline raised her eyebrow, noticing different little patches of students around the hall taking turns to stare at her, before turning back to their house table and whispering, "Golden Boy?"

"Harry Potter, of course," Daphne supplied loudly, a spoonful of mash hovering near her mouth, "The Boy Who Lived, yap yap yap."

Ah, yes. Harry Potter; a legend even in the French circles of the Wizarding World. She had almost forgotten all about the celebrity student. She turned to look behind her, trying to spot the boy to no avail.

"You'd think people had better things to gossip about," Madeline observed, turning back to her new housemates, "Honestly, they should put their eyes back in their sockets."

To Madeline's surprise, both Daphne and Theodore broke into a snicker. Madeline found herself grinning, something inside her softening.

Daphne's grin widened, a twinkle in her eyes, "Oh I'm going to _love_ having you around."

Madeline let herself laugh lightly, Theodore making some remark back at Daphne. However, Madeline's attention was taken elsewhere when she locked eyes with another classmate, sat only a few seats up from Daphne.

The boy had silver-blonde hair, with grey eyes that seemed fixed on Madeline's own. He watched her curiously, Madeline staring back in defiance. After a few silent moments, the boy simply smirked at her, a cocky wink accompanying it before he turned back to his food.

Madeline furrowed her brows. Did she know him, or was he just an ass? 

* * *

"Moody won't stop staring at the new girl, have you noticed?" Hermione nudged her best friend, nodding towards the teachers table.

"He's not the only one," Harry sighed, tilting his head over to Seamus and Dean, who had barely touched their plates.

"We've got the rest of our lives to eat," Seamus shrugged, eyes glued to the Slytherin table.

"Careful; Malfoy might think you fancy him," Ron muttered, far more invested in his food than the two boys.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Unbelievable."

"Blimey, what's the big deal?" Ron asked, finally ungluing his eyes from his plate and turning to his friends, "A new Slytherin? Just another one of Malfoys' goons if you ask me."

"Weasley, take a look!"

"Stop treating her like a piece of meat," Hermione demanded, "You'll find that women don't actually enjoy being objectified. Right, Ron?"

"Yeah, right- oh bloody hell," Ron's eyes widened at the sight of their new classmate, "You know what; she's not that bad looking for one of Malfoy's goons."

Hermione scoffed, turning to Harry, "Can you believe this?"

But alas, Harry was far more preoccupied by the Ravenclaw table, where Cho Chang was happily chatting to her housemates. Of course, out of all of her friends, Hermione was the only one with her head on her shoulders.

Hermione turned to watch as their new professor took a swing of liquid from a flask, eyes still watching the Slytherin table.

They'd never get a quiet year in Hogwarts, would they?


	3. 2: Slytherin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As a little guide to how I plan on structuring this story;  
> Fourth Year will be a lot of Madeline discovering herself and making friendships. Her initial love storylines will probably start well into the Triwizard Tournament (which is coming!). However, these first few chapters are for us to really begin to understand what kind of person Madeline is, and what she'll become.

**CHAPTER 2: Slytherin**

_My Dearest Caradoc,_

_Years have passed me by in a blur, yet not a day goes by where I don’t think about you._

_You’d be so proud of Madeline; she’s already shaping up to become a wonderful Witch, like her mother if I may say so myself._

_I pray that there is a world in which you know her, and watch her grow up._

_Yours forever,_

_Eloise._

* * *

Hogwarts was precisely the opposite of what Madeline’s home had been.

Although the castle was impossibly large, there seemed to be a friendly face on every corner. The school itself was filled with life, a stark difference to the desolated corridors of her mansion. Innocent spells and hexes were thrown between classmates in the halls, laughs decorating the stone walls.

It was homely and warm, and funnily enough, a little uncomfortable.

Madeline may have been the daughter of an aristocratic socialite, but she most definitely wasn’t the best at… Socialising, shall we say. She was witty and bright, but her sharp tongue had never won her any favours. It seemed that to the vast majority of Hogwarts, she was a shiny new toy sitting on a shelf, ready to be played with, and just maybe, that left a sour taste in her mouth when it came to meeting new people.

However, Madeline had found herself growing fonder of two specific housemates of hers; Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass. The latter had made it her mission to give Madeline a _‘True Slytherin Experience’_ , a direct quote given to her right before entering her common room for the first time.

And although Hogwarts itself seemed far too big and far too warm for Madeline, the Slytherin Common Room felt just like home.

It was hidden in the depths of the Hogwarts dungeons, behind a dark stone brick wall with an unfortunate leak, grey water trickling out of a loose stone and onto the ground. Damp and dreary, the entrance may not seem the most inviting, but a simple whisper of the password would upturn the stones, revealing perhaps the most beautiful room Madeline had ever seen.

It was large and dark, the only light emitting from a few candles, some green lanterns, a single candelabra hanging from the curved ceiling, and the enormous windows opening up into the Great Lake. Thick wreaths of ivy hung from above the windows, the stone walls either kept bare or covered with intricate vintage green wallpaper, depicting stories that were ever-changing. A large stone fireplace commanded the room, surrounded with plush black leather couches and wooden chairs. Above the mantelpiece, moving pictures of decades of Slytherins proudly mounted the walls.

The floor also remained bare and stone, save for a few luscious green rugs, each patterned with snakes of all shapes and sizes. The Slytherin crest hung proudly from every pillar in the room, and even engraved in the large round dark oak tables littered around the room. You’d often see a few fish swim by the windows, some stopping to peer inside through the murky green water.

To Madeline, it was perfect. It was cold and isolated, yet there was a warmness to it found only through the people in the house itself.

It hadn’t taken long for her to understand exactly what being a Slytherin meant to everyone else in Hogwarts. In fact, it seemed that everyone had made up their mind about her; cold, detached, and evil. What they didn’t see, however, was the smiles of the first years when the Slytherin Prefects made them their first Conjure Cocoa, nor would they hear the bright laughter of Daphne Greengrass as they all sat around the warm fire, telling tales of their summers.

Daphne had a warmth to her that was very rare to find, in Madeline’s experience. She was perhaps the loudest of the Slytherin women, with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. She’d be the first one up in the mornings, and the last one asleep. _“I’m just making the most of every moment,”_ she’d say, her optimism almost infectious. It was a mystery how someone like Theodore Nott, sharp-tongued and cynical, had called the girl his best friend for the last four years.

In the short time she’d known him, Theodore was clearly one of the most talented young wizards Madeline had ever met. His skills in Ancient Runes were unmatched, and he wore his intelligence almost arrogantly sometimes, yet he’d never dare mock another housemates struggles. In the short few days she’d been in Hogwarts, Madeline had spotted Theodore help more than one first year with homework assignments, doing so without seek of praise or admiration.

Madeline wasn’t quite sure how she fit into their dynamic, but she did. In fact, since the moment she’d sat at the Slytherin table that very first time, she’d found herself with her two new friends at every meal and between every class, animatedly talking about new professors, new classes, and new places she’d found. They would joke and tease each other, as if they’d known each other their whole lives.

Slytherin _really_ wasn’t so bad. The rest of the school stayed away from them, which was a blessing in disguise for Madeline. Although she enjoyed Nott and Greengrasses’ company, she knew that it was most likely not going to last. She was sent to Hogwarts to be safe, and dragging anyone with her into her own family baggage just didn’t seem… Fair.

Hogwarts felt warm and inviting, precisely the opposite of what Madeline’s home had been.

* * *

“I can’t believe Flitwick is giving us homework already,” Daphne groaned, struggling to carry her stack of textbooks and rolled parchments, _“Read three books about Summoning Charms?!_ I’m telling you, the man is mental! _”_

“Absolutely _mad,”_ Madeline teased, laughing as her friend shoved her, “No, honestly!”

Daphne rolled her eyes, smirking as they walked past a group of fifth-year boys, “It looks like no one has a problem keeping their eye on you when Theodore is nowhere to be found, Bisset.”

“They’re staring at _you_ and your ridiculous stack of books, actually,” Madeline retorted, “Here, let me help you-“

“Absolutely not,” Daphne scoffed, “You’re not going soft on me now, are you Bisset?”

“Just trying to help,” Madeline protested, her laughter trailing off as she spotted a red-tied trio standing ahead of them.

She’d heard the tale of Harry Potter, of course she had, yet she hadn’t quite had the opportunity to see him herself just yet. And there he was, in all of his unimpressive glory; a scruffy-haired, glasses-sporting young boy with more adventures than the average person would care to enjoy.

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley sat with him on the stone bench, the two boys animatedly discussing something while the young witch scribbled on a parchment, chiming into the conversation every few moments. The three were the poster children for Gryffindor. _‘The Golden Trio’_ as the Slytherins referred to them.

“What are you staring at- Oh,” Daphne realised, turning back to her friend, “Please don’t tell me you have Potter fever, because I’m not quite sure I could stay your friend if you do.”

“Don’t be silly,” Madeline scoffed, her eyes fixated on the trio, “I’ve just never seen him in person before, that’s all.”

“Sure,” Daphne sighed dramatically, “That’s how it starts, and before you know it you’ll be braiding Weasley’s _atrocious_ excuse for a haircut while Granger recites every single potion ingredient known to man, and-“

“Oh shove off,” Madeline grinned, poking the pile of books in Daphne’s arms, “What do you need all of these for, anyway?”

“Nott and I have a bet,” Daphne shrugged mysteriously, “One I’ll clearly win, by the way.”

“Confidence is key,” Madeline nodded, her eyes straying to the Golden Trio once more. However, this time, a certain pair of eyes was staring back at her.

Harry Potter himself offered her a small, hesitant smile, which she almost returned. Almost, hadn’t it been for Daphne’s frantic whispering distracting her.

“Look!” Daphne whispered, “It’s Mad-Eye Moody!”

Madeline’s gaze fell on the Professor as he hobbled past the Golden Trio, turning sharply to walk past the two girls. Madeline furrowed her eyebrows; he seemed _so_ familiar, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite place him.

“We have Defence Against The Dark Arts with him later, don’t we?” Madeline asked distractedly, his eyes fixated on his back as he walked away from the girls.

“Unfortunately,” Daphne sighed, “Snape will skin us alive if we’re late to Potions, come on.”

* * *

“…There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few…”

“He uses this speech every year,” Daphne whispered to her new friend as the two sat in the back row of Snape's’ classroom.

“…I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death,” Snape paused dramatically, his eyes scanning over the classroom of greens and reds, “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.”

Madeline watched the Professor intently as he swept across the front of the room, turning to his desk and flipping a potions textbook open, “As you are all now fourth years, we’ll begin by covering antidotes.”

A small groan echoed through the room, to which Madeline couldn’t help but chuckle at. Unfortunately, this did not go unnoticed.

“Since Miss Bisset seems so very _entertained_ by my lesson, I’m sure she’ll be able to tell us what important antidote absolutely _needs_ Jobberknoll feathers,” Snape drawled, stalking to her desk, “Isn’t that right, Bisset?”

“Memory Potion, Sir,” Madeline straightened herself up in her seat, replying with ease.

Snape raised his eyebrow, “And what form should the sage in the potion be used as?”

“Powdered,” Madeline answered, “For the best results.”

Snape leant back, as if offended by Madeline’s knowledge. He swiftly turned away, “Do not distract yourself in my class, Bisset.”

“Yes Sir,” Madeline replied quietly, ignoring the stares of her classmates.

“Damn,” Daphne whistled quietly, “Since when are you a Potions Master?”

Madeline shrugged, watching as Snape began pulling different vials and flasks off a shelf on the far right of the room. A few desks in front of her, on the left, she spotted a familiar set of glasses-framed eyes staring at her.

She shot Harry Potter a small smile, which he returned before turning back around. Madeline raised her eyebrow; The Boy Who Lived, huh?

The class passed by in a blur, Snape drawling on and on about antidotes and their different properties, eventually assigning an essay on _The Antidote To Common Poisons_. It was only when Madeline had been packing her things into her black leather satchel that Snape spoke her name once more.

“Miss Bisset, a word after class please.”

Madeline looked at Snape in surprise, nodding. She ignored the stares of her classmates as she idly watched the room dwindle down, until it was only her and the Professor.

“What is your prior education to Hogwarts, Miss Bisset?” Snape asked, his back turned as he cleared the blackboard.

“My mother homeschooled me,” Madeline began, “She was a Professor in Beauxbatons before the war.”

“I see,” Snape replied with his signature monotony, “Bisset… French, is it?”

“Yes Sir,” Madeline replied, knowing _exactly_ what weight her family name carried.

Snape paused for a moment, turning back at the girl slowly. He watched her over his large hooked nose, “I suggest, Miss Bisset, that you think about your future _very carefully_ this year. You could excel in this class, but do ensure you keep the right… Company. Is that clear?”

“Yes Sir,” Madeline replied slowly, confused at her Professors’ sudden interest in her social life, “Is that all?”

“Yes, and you better hurry,” Snape drawled, looking over to the closed classroom door, “I believe you have Defence Against The Dark Arts next.”

* * *

Madeline arrived to her Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom with moments to spare. Unfortunately, Daphne and Theodore had opted to sit next to each other, leaving Madeline to slide into the one empty seat in the classroom; next to a shy, round-faced Gryffindor.

Madeline shot the boy a polite smile as she began pulling her books out of her satchel, which was returned with a hesitant wave. However, before she could introduce herself to the shy boy, the door to the classroom was flung open.

Professor Moody was as frightening as ever, hobbling into the room on his wooden clawed foot. Every single person, Slytherin and Gryffindor alike, sat in silence as their new Professor made his way down the room.

“You can put those away,” he muttered, gesturing to the textbooks on Daphne’s desk, “You won’t be needing books.”

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, but slid the books back into her satchel. Moody immediately began a class register, eyes scanning each student until everyone had been declared present.

"I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class,” Professor Moody began, scribbling his name on the chalkboard behind him, “It seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

The rest of the students nodded, but Madeline remained still. Her mother had covered the basics of the Dark Arts and Dark creatures, but never in much depth.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," mused Moody, "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. So - straight into it. Curses.”

 _Alright,_ Madeline thought, _This I know about._

“As you should know, they come in many strengths and forms,” Moody continued, a smirk on his face, “Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore’s; he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better.”

Madeline raised her eyebrows, “This ought to be interesting,” she mumbled, ignoring the panicked gaze of her desk mate.

“How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful,” Moody continued, “And Miss Bisset, I suggest you don’t make remarks during my lessons, or people might get the wrong idea.”

Madeline’s eyes widened, casting a simple nod to Moody. It seemed that his magical eye was far more alert than she was.

"So. . . do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

A few hands rose in the class, but Madeline and her desk partner kept theirs down. The Professor pointed at the ginger-haired boy sat next to Harry Potter; _Ron Weasley_ , Madeline recognised.

"Er," said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one. . . . Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?”

"Ah, yes," replied Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse.”

Everyone watched as Moody made his way to his desk, opening a drawer and taking out a glass jar. Inside it, three large spiders. He turned to the class, taking one spider out and holding it out to the class on the palm of his hand. He pointed his wand at the small black creature and muttered, “Imperio!”

Commanded by Moody’s wand, the spider leapt from the Professors’ hand and onto a nearby desk, twisting and turning into backflips and cartwheels. An echo of laughter swam around the room, but when Madeline realised exactly what kind of lesson this would be, she stayed silent.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled to the class, "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?”, and of course, everyone fell silent.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…”

Moody made the spider somersault back into the jar, breaking the curse, “Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards who claimed being controlled by the Imperius Curse. Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.”

Madeline remained silent, wondering if Moody perhaps knew of the rumours circulating in the Wizarding world, and if he believed them. Perhaps that was why he was here.

"The Imperius Curse _can_ be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, causing everyone to jump, “Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?”

A few hands hesitantly flew in the air, and to Madeline’s surprise, her silent desk mate was one of them.

Moody’s eyes landed on the round-faced boy, “Yes?”

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said the boy in a small but distinct voice.

Moody watched the boy intently, checking the register with his magic eye, “Your name’s Longbottom?”

The boy - Longbottom - nodded, but Moody made no further comments. Instead, he turned back to the jar and grabbed the next spider, placing it on his desk. "The Cruciatus Curse. Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. “Engorgio!"

The spider began growing, and even Madeline had to admit that it was most definitely unsettling, the sheer size of the eight-legged creature. Moody raised his wand once more, muttering the next curse;

“Crucio!”

Immediately, the spider seemed to shrivel on itself, twitching and rocking. Small squeaks of terror, so small they could hardly be heard, echoed in the silent classroom. Madeline was more than a little uncomfortable, but what concerned her even more was Longbottoms’ reaction.

His hands clenched the edge of the desk, his eyes wide and horrified, yet unable to stray from the spider. Madeline had never seen anyone so scared, and at once, she found herself shouting;

“Stop!”

Moody looked at her curiously, but she continued, gesturing to the boy next to her, “Can’t you see it’s bothering him?!”

All at once, Moody’s wand lowered, the spider no longer curled in on itself, but still twitching lightly.

“Reducio.”

Without a word, Moody simply scooped the spider into the jar, as if nothing had happened.

Longbottom’s grip on his desk had lessened, but his eyes remained fixed on his lap, deep breaths pulling in and out of his chest. Once again, Madeline ignored the eyes on her.

"Pain," said Moody softly, as if he did indeed have some sense of tact, "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. That one was very popular once too… Right, anyone know any others?”

No one dared raise their hands. Madeline knew what was coming, she couldn’t not. As far as she was aware, it was the very thing that had killed her father.

Hermione Granger slowly lifted her hand, "Avada Kedavra," she whispered.

The silence in the room was deafening.

“Ah, yes,” Moody drawled, “The Killing Curse.”

The third spider frantically moved around the jar, as if trying to escape its fate. Moody easily scooped the spider out, placing it on the wooden surface of his desk. He raised his wand, and Madeline found herself closing her eyes tightly.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Madeline kept her eyes closed as blinding green light hit the spider, killing it instantly. She slowly ‘opened her eyes as Moody scooped the spider to the floor, unmistakably dead.

“There's no countercurse,” Moody continued calmly, perching himself at the edge of his desk, “There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me.”

Madeline’s eyes fell to Harry Potter, sat in the first row, right in front of Moody. She wondered if that’s how her father had died; struck by some bright green light, and then nothing.

"Avada Kedavra is a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed,” Moody sniffed, “But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

"Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. Those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills…copy this down…”

Everyone began taking notes, the classroom shrouded in bleak silence. Once in a while, Madeline would dare dart her eyes at Longbottom, who had seemed to recover partially, but it would be no surprise if his notes were left illegible. Daphne and Theodore seemed a little shaken, much like Harry and his friends. As soon as Moody had dismissed the class, however, one thing echoed in Madeline’s mind;

_“You need preparing. You need arming.”_

As they left the classroom, Madeline’s classmates excitedly chatted around her, as if they’d witnessed some great show. Madeline, however, was a little shaken. A foreboding dread crept inside her, but she quickly shook it off when she spotted a now familiar head of dark hair walking in front of her.

“Longbottom!”

The boy spun on his heel, coming face-to-face with the Slytherin girl. He seemed nervous, squeaking a shrill “Hello.”

“Are you alright?” Madeline asked quietly, stepping closer to him, “It wasn't a very pleasant lesson, was it?”

“I’m fine,” the boy squeaked, eyes darting all around, “I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?”

Madeline raised her eyebrow, “I’m- No, I was just wondering if-“

“Neville, are you all right?”

The second voice had been none other than Hermione Granger, flanked on either side by the remainder of the Golden Trio. Madeline stared at the boy as he nervously replied.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville stumbled, "Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “Neville, are you-“

Before Harry had a chance to continue, however, Moody stumbled his way out of the classroom calling for Neville.

“It’s alright,” Moody coaxed, hand slapping on the boy’s shoulder, "Why don't you come up to my office? We can have a cup of tea…”

Neville hesitantly nodded, Moody leading him away from the small group, “Come on then, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you.”

The four young students silently watched the boy walk away, the corridor quickly deserting.

"What was that about?" Ron asked his friends, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

"I don't know," replied Hermione, looking pensive.

"Some lesson, though, eh?" continued Ron to Harry, as if Madeline wasn’t there, ”Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right -“

“That was really cool of you.”

Madeline’s eyes shot up, meeting a pair of green eyes staring right back at her. Harry continued, “You standing up for Neville. That was really… Good of you.”

Madeline shrugged, “It wasn’t fair, and I’m willing to bet Longbo- Neville wasn’t the only one uncomfortable.”

“Harry’s right; I wouldn’t have guessed you would-“ Ron began, cut off by a sharp nudge from Hermione, “Hey!”

And that’s when Madeline realised. Of course no one would expect someone like _her_ to stand up for someone like Neville. She was a Slytherin, and she’d been in Hogwarts long enough to know exactly what that meant for people.

“You didn’t think I’d stand up for him because of what?” Madeline demanded, feeling her temper rise, “Because I’m a Slytherin, or because of whatever rumour _your house_ has made up about me? Because yes, I have eyes, and I have ears. Just because you don’t _know_ someone, you shouldn’t expect the worst of them.”

And with one furious glare at the Golden Trio, Madeline stormed off.

* * *

Theodore and Daphne found their new friend in the Slytherin common room, furiously scribbling away on parchment at one of the large dark oak tables. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her hands stained with ink, clearly either concentrating on something, or in Theodore’s words-

“Someone’s pissed you off,” he observed amusedly, the two friends pulling out chairs and seating themselves at the table.

“You could say that,” Madeline replied, her eyes and hands still glued to the parchment.

“Was it Snape? Did he take house points off you?” Daphne asked sympathetically, “He did that to me once for forgetting my quill.”

Madeline sighed, placing her quill down on the table, “It seems that people don’t think I have an ounce of compassion because I’m in Slytherin.”

Theodore raised his eyebrows, “Is this about DADA?”

“The Almighty Golden Trio didn’t expect me to stand up for Neville, but, I mean- I was sat _next to him_ , I couldn’t stay quiet,” Madeline complained, “It’s like- everyone has already made their minds up about me, haven’t they?”

“They don’t know you; they’re going to gossip,” Daphne shrugged, “So what?”

Madeline looked at Daphne in confusion, “Excuse me?”

“So what if they gossip,” Daphne continued, “They want to build their own story? Fine, as long as you know who you are. And then, you have the element of surprise.”

Theodore shrugged, “She kind of has a point.”

Madeline looked at her two friends, and for a moment, she remembered one trait the Sorting Hat had assigned her with;

 _Resourcefulness_. 


	4. 3: Explosive Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Madeline finds out exactly what kind of students Hogwarts houses.

**CHAPTER 3**

It had been two weeks since Madeline’s arrival at Hogwarts, and thankfully, it seemed that the buzz around her transfer had sufficiently calmed down.

Sure, she still received some wary glances from the younger students, but she’d perfectly managed to blend into the sea of silvers and greens that was Slytherin house. She didn’t stick out like a sore thumb anymore, and she was most certainly living up to her houses’ honour, going as far as becoming perhaps one of Snape’s most able students (never _good;_ Snape would never admit that).

Her classes had been relatively stews-free so far, Professor Moody having realised exactly how shaken Neville had been, and deciding to take things a little slower with the boy in the room. Daphne and Theodore had helped her catch up with the little material she wasn’t familiar with, because although her mother had been an excellent teacher, Hogwarts also had many areas of study (and they really hadn’t covered Divination all that much during her homeschooling). 

However, in the last two weeks, Madeline had met her fair share of… _Characters._ Some were much more pleasant than others, but some… _Well_.

* * *

Madeline had thought that her little disagreement with the Golden Trio would earn her negative points with the Gryffindors, but it seemed that the trio had kept their mouths shut. 

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Madeline had found herself cooped up in one of the alcoves of the Hogwarts Library, finishing off yet another Potions essay. Daphne had been far too preoccupied with taking a nap than helping her with homework, and Theodore preferred studying in the common room, leaving her pleasantly alone for the first time. The silence of the library helped Madeline concentrate, but it also let her observe.

She’d seen Hermione on her way into the library, frantically scribbling on parchment upon parchment and barely lifting her eyes off the papers. She'd also spotted Neville, who had offered her a small shy smile, engrossed in a thick Herbology book in the corner of the library. She didn’t recognise any of the other students, nor did she feel a need to sit with Neville, so she made her way to the little alcove between two large bookshelves, seating herself at the small wooden desktop. 

Potions had been her best subject so far. It all made sense; how different ingredients affected potions, the brewing… It was simple, easy even. But she wanted to impress Snape, and she most definitely wasn’t going to do that if she didn’t write killer essays. 

It had been only half an hour, however, before she became distracted.

It had started with a snicker. Small chuckles echoed quietly through the other side of the tall bookcase, but Madeline had ignored it, assuming it was just some silly juvinile couple. Hushed whispers came next, becoming more frantic, sometimes even argumentative. It was only when she began hearing small explosions that she truly became distracted.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered, catching glimpses of the conversation.

_“It’s unstable.”_

_“That’s the point!”_

Surely someone wasn’t trying to brew something _in the library._

Madeline found herself sitting up, leaning forwards towards the bookshelf. She pulled a few books out, peering through the small gap onto the other side.

A set of twins, both with ginger hair and red ties, were hunched over a small plate of small round yellow sweets. One twin had their wand pointed at them, while the other was flicking through an outdated potions textbook, gesturing at the page.

“Well they won’t work if they explode your hand, will they?” the twin with the textbook said, flipping through the pages.

“Well there's no way we can get Erumpent horn,” the twin with the wand explained, “So how are we meant to trademark _Weasley’s Exploding Bon Bons_ if they don’t even explode?” 

Madeline raised her eyebrow. _Weasleys? More of them?_

The twin with the textbook groaned, shutting the book and jumping off the desk, “I’m going to ask Hermione.”

Madeline paused for a moment, debating with herself. Eventually, she turned to her own potions textbook, flipping through the pages of her _Asiatic Anti-Venoms_ book. She picked up the textbook once she found the right page, pulling herself out of her chair and making her way around the bookcase, into the small alcove between two other bookcases, where there now remained one twin.

“You’re not going to get anywhere with charms and spells,” Madeline explained politely, gesturing to the plate of bonbons, “You should try a blend of African Red Pepper and Bursting Mushrooms next time you brew the coating for them.”

The Weasley’s eyes shot up to the girl, widening as he realised exactly who was talking to him. She didn’t miss the flicker of his eyes down to her tie, “What?”

“The mushroom makes it explosive, the pepper controls it, while still giving it a kick,” Madeline shrugged, leaning back against the desk and placing her textbook in front of him, crossing her arms, “It’s all in the books, if you look at the right ones, that is.”

The twin scanned the book, raising his eyebrows and looking back up to the girl, “How’d you figure that one out?”

Madeline shrugged, “It’s pretty easy once you learn the different properties of different ingredients.”

The twin grinned, leaning back in his chair, “Well, looks like the rumours are true.”

Madeline raised her eyebrow in a challenge, “What rumours?”

The boy’s grin seemed to stretch, but surprisingly, it wasn’t cocky in the slightest, “You’re not just a pretty face.”

Madeline’s eyes widened, her hands grabbing the textbook off the table before the boy could see her blush, spluttering, “You’re welcome, by the way. Don’t kill anyone with those things, will you? I’m not interested in being an accessory to a crime.”

Madeline hastily spun on her heel, stalking away from the boy. He’d instantly stood up, calling out one last thing.

“The name is Fred, by the way!”

She stopped, a small smirk on her face. She turned back to the boy, textbook clutched to her chest. She was only a few feet away from him, rolling her eyes at his goofy grin.

“Madeline Bisset.” 

* * *

It took a surprisingly long time before Madeline found herself running into the one and only Draco Malfoy, the self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin.

She’d heard all about the boy from Daphne within her first day in Slytherin. Spoilt, arrogant, and with a smugness that could only come from money. He most certainly wasn’t bad looking, unfortunately, but Daphne had already painted the picture of a spoilt little brat for Madeline to feel any attraction. 

And of course, she knew about the Malfoy family from her own family. They were as powerful as her own family, the only difference being in the Malfoy’s unashamed beliefs in blood status, while the Bissets kept their opinions to themselves. 

She’d managed to escape having to actually _speak_ to the boy until a few hours after the Neville incident. 

Madeline and Daphne had only just walked through the common room door, engrossed in an animated conversation about the Quidditch world cup. Neither had noticed Malfoy sat by the large Slytherin fireplace, sat with the few friends he’d kept around. The two girls had every intention to go to their dormitory. That is, until Malfoy decided to interrupt their conversation.

“Bisset,” the boy called loudly, catching the attention of everyone in the common room as he stood up in all his cocky glory, “We were just talking about you.”

Madeline raised her eyebrow, the happy grin that had been on her face moments before replaced with a defensive scowl, “And who are you?”

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” the boy replied with no attempt to shake the girls’ hand, “We all agreed that it’s _embarrassing_ they let you into Slytherin.”

“Well, the Sorting Hat let you in, so clearly it doesn’t have very high standards.”

Madeline smirked as she heard some of the Slytherins’ laugh, staring the blonde boy down arrogantly. Malfoy, however, wasn’t very impressed with her sharp tongue.

“We don’t want a filthy blood traitor like you in here,” Malfoy spat, “Sympathising with Longbottom? _Pathetic_. Is it because you can’t get any friends of your own?” 

“It’s not _pathetic_ to have empathy,” Madeline retorted. 

“Well you’ve certainly made an entrance, haven’t you?” Malfoy smirked.

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

The boy shrugged, “Just wanted to make everyone very clear about where you came from, _Dearborn_.”

Madeline froze. 

_Dearborn_ had been her father’s family name. Her mother had decided to change back to her maiden name after his death, to ensure no Death Eaters came after them. No one had used that name in years. It was practically banned in her home, because although the Dearborn family had been a very prestigious family, Caradoc Dearborn had never fallen in line with their beliefs.

“What, nothing to say?” Malfoy smirked, taking a step forwards, “My father told me all about your family. How you father-“

Madeline saw red. Before she knew what was happening, she speedily stepped forwards and held her wand tightly, pointing it up under Draco’s chin. The tip of her wand dug into his skin, rage rushing through her blood.

“If you ever _dare_ say a single word about my family again, I won’t _hesitate_ to hex your ass out of Hogwarts,” Madeline hissed, stepping back slowly, “You shouldn’t mess with Bisset.”

Malfoy looked the girl up and down, as if unfazed by her threat, “You should know better than to mess with _me_. After all, that’s what happened to your father, didn’t it?”

Madeline refused to waste any more breath on the boy. Instead, she grabbed Daphne’s arm and pulled her up towards their dormitory, the girl having watched the entire encounter with stupor. They were halfway up the stone steps when Daphne finally spoke.

“You guys have undeniable chemistry.”

“Shut up, Greengrass.”

“No, seriously! I had chills.”

* * *

It was Saturday morning before any of the Golden Trio attempted to speak to her.

She’d decided to sit by the lake and write her mother a letter, opting to send it off early so it would arrive by the next week (she had no clue how long it would take an owl to fly to France, but she suspected it wouldn’t be an overnight affair). Breakfast had only just started, but she wasn’t hungry, nor was she in any rush to sit with the Slytherins. They were still a little uneasy after her short confrontation with Malfoy, which she understood; most people didn’t want to get on his bad side.

The sun shone on the lakes still surface, the September chill having not quite settled in just yet. With her quill in hand, she began elegantly writing on a piece of her fanciest parchment.

_Dear Mother,_

_I apologise for not writing sooner, but just to reassure you; I’m settled in and still alive. I’m a Slytherin; I’m sure Dad told you all about the different houses. I’m sure you didn’t expect any different (after all, I am your daughter)._

_Hogwarts is very different from home. No cooking could ever compare to your own (and I’m sure you know that). The classes are strict, and the Professors a little… Odd, let’s say. It’s a little weird living with so many people, but it’s not awful. How’s grandmother? I’m sure she’s itching to throw another one of her events. I wonder how she’ll cope without an eligible bachelorette to parade around._

Madeline paused her writing. She missed her mother, terribly so, but she knew why she’d been sent to Hogwarts. It was for her own safety, of course, but a part of her wondered if she should be protecting her mother, too. But of course, phrasing that in a letter could never hold the same importance as saying it to her mother herself.

“Hey.”

Madeline looked up. In her haste to write the letter, she hadn’t noticed the one and only Harry Potter standing in front of her, hands buried in his pockets sheepishly.

“Can I help you?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Harry began, “I can go if you want, but I wanted to apologise.” 

Madeline set her quill down, watching the boy thoughtfully, “What for?”

“It wasn’t right for anyone to assume anything about you because you’re a Slytherin,” Harry admitted, “I know what it’s like to have people assume things about you. I should’ve said something.”

Madeline paused, but eventually nodded, “I get it, it’s fine. I’ve already been here long enough to understand why you’d think that.”

Harry looked to the floor sheepishly, “Slytherin doesn’t exactly have the best reputation.”

Madeline snorted, “Yeah? With a git like Malfoy as the self-proclaimed leader, I can’t imagine why.”

Harry chuckled, “Not a fan?”

“That’s an understatement,” Madeline replied, a short silence following as she picked at the corner of her parchment

“Are you writing home?”

“Uh, yeah,” Madeline nodded, “I haven’t really written to my mum since I got here.”

“I should let you do that,” Harry realised, “But really; none of us think any less of you because you’re a Slytherin, you know? What you did for Neville was really cool.”

Madeline scoffed, “It was nothing.” 

Harry shot her a small smile, “I think it meant more to Neville than you’d imagine.”

* * *

Saturday also brought about her first interaction with the house of Hufflepuff.

She’d been in the Owlery at the time, trying to figure out which owl would take her letter all the way home. She hadn’t brought her own family owl, opting to bring her after the Christmas break instead, in case Hogwarts hadn't worked out. It had taken a little while, but after some coaxing (and a lot of treats), one of the school owls happily agreed to take her letter.

“Things would be so much easier if Wizards used phones like Muggles,” Madeline muttered to herself, tying the letter to the owl’s small leg, “Who decided on owls anyway?”

The bird chirped at her. 

“No offence,” Madeline quickly corrected herself, “But surely you don’t enjoy carrying people’s letters around, right? Can't be a well paying job either - Merlin, I’m having a conversation with an owl.”

A short chuckle broke Madeline out of her mutters.

She spun around to the entrance of the Owlery to find a brown-haired boy staring at her amusedly. He leant against the archway of the Owlery with his arms crossed, a kind smile on his face. She instantly knew he was a Hufflepuff by the bright yellow Quidditch jersey on his chest, and Madeline knew just enough about the sport to know the silver badge on his chest meant he was the Captain, too.

“Something funny?”

“Not at all,” the boy replied, “Just glad to know that I’m not the only one who talks to the owls. Although, I do agree that cell phones would be much handier.”

“Careful, they don’t like that,” Madeline joked as the owl hopped away from her and to the windowsill, taking off without a warning, “See? Told you so.”

“I’ll take full responsibility if an owl postal strike happens,” the boy nodded, stepping into the owlery. It was then that Madeline noticed his own set of letters in his hand, all addressed and ready to send.

“The trick to getting speedy replies is giving them the right treats,” the boy confided, pulling out a small bag of triangular shaped snacks from his Quidditch robe pocket. He made his way to one of the owl coops, making a tutting noise with his mouth until a small barn-owl poked its head out.

“A friend of yours?” Madeline joked, watching curiously as the owl rubbed it’s feathered head against the boy’s hand. 

“Something like that,” the boy laughed, opening the bag and feeding the owl a few of the treats. 

The two students stayed silent for a few minutes, Madeline watching the interaction in fascination as the boy tied his letters to the owl one by one, explaining quietly where each one was going. Eventually, after the entire bag of treats, the owl set off into the sky at a rapid speed, with the promise of more treats on her return.

“I’m Cedric, by the way,” the boy introduced himself, wiping his hand clean of owl treats before holding it out to Madeline, “You’re new, right?”

“Fourth year,” Madeline nodded, shaking his hand, “I’m Madeline.”

“Well Madeline, if you ever need any owl tips, I’ll be happy to oblige,” Cedric joked, “But I really should get going before practice starts. Don’t be a stranger?”

“We’ll see how the postal strike pans out,” Madeline teased. Cedric chuckled, offering her a small wave before making his way out of the Owlery.

_Cute, but not my type,_ Madeline decided.

* * *

The next time she saw Cedric was the following morning on her way to the Great Hall. It had been a brief interaction; a cheery ‘Good Morning’ on their respective walks to breakfast.

But of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Malfoy.

“As if Longbottom wasn’t enough, she’s only gone and made herself cosy with the Hufflepuffs!” Draco called as he pushed past her, a snooty dark-haired girl, Pansy Parkinson, chuckling by his side.

“Christ, put a sock in it Malfoy before I do it myself,” Madeline called back as the boy walked away, Theodore raising an eyebrow at the girl.

“Did I miss something?” the boy asked, Daphne offering him a shrug.

“Our dear Madeline here has already made her first enemy,” Daphne explained, dramatically wiping away a fake tear, “They grow up so fast!”

“Makes sense,” Theodore replied thoughtfully, “Malfoy isn’t everyone's cup of tea.”

“He’s a twat,” Madeline replied sharply, Daphne snorting by her side.

“To put it plainly… Yeah, I guess,” Theodore agreed.

Before their conversation continued, however, Madeline caught sight of a familiar ginger-haired boy waving her over frantically by the entrance to the Great Hall. She raised her eyebrow, but gave the boy a short nod. 

“I’ll meet you in there,” Madeline told her friends, “Please, feel free to hex Malfoy’s eggs, or something.”

“Tempting,” Daphne singsonged, threading her arm through Theodore’s and all but dragging him through the open doors. Madeline made her way over to the boy, who seemed rather excited to see her.

“Hey,” she greeted, “What’s wrong?”

“You were right,” Fred replied excitedly, “I mean, it took us a few tries, but the recipe is so much better.”

Madeline shrugged, “Simple science would do the trick.”

“Well, to say thank you; here,” Fred presented dramatically, a grin on his face as he held up a clear bag filled with yellow bonbons, “The very first batch of _The Weasley Exploding Bonbons!_ ” 

“Gee, what a treat,” Madeline joked, taking the sweet bag gratefully, “Do they really explode?”

“Yup,” Fred nodded, “Bursting Mushrooms and all!”

Madeline’s gaze fell on the Slytherin table, and particularly, Draco Malfoy. She was just out of sight, being still on the outside of the Great Hall, but an idea hatched in her mind nevertheless. She turned back to the older Gryffindor boy, a smirk on her face.

“Say, Freddie,” Madeline smirked, a mischievous glint in her eye, “How exactly do these work?”

* * *

The next morning, Madeline had managed to drag Daphne and Theodore to breakfast early, much to Daphne’s protest. She’d picked a slightly different spot for her breakfast. In fact, she’d picked the spot that was usually occupied by-

“Out of my seat, Bisset.”

Madeline looked up to find the silver-blonde boy staring down at her. Malfoy seemed far less amused than she was, but she stood her ground easily.

“It’s just a seat Malfoy. Don't be a baby,” she replied, turning back to her breakfast and picking up a glass of pumpkin juice. The boy, however, didn’t seem amused.

“Move, or I’ll make you,” Draco pressed, Madeline rolling her eyes.

“Jeez, someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Madeline joked, “Alright, fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Madeline stood up, moving to the other side of the table and further down the bench, closer to the third years. Malfoy smirked, sitting down arrogantly.

“See? Wasn’t so hard now was it?” he bragged cockily, his goons sitting on either side of him.

Madeline didn’t reply. Instead, she watched as he picked up the same glass of pumpkin juice she’d prepared.

And watched it explode all over his face.

“I should’ve mentioned,” Madeline called over the laughter of the third year Slytherins, “I like to start my Mondays a little more… Explosive.”

By then, Slytherin table was cackling as they watched Draco stand up in a huff, Pansy Parkinson standing up after him.  


“Let me help you-“ she began, patting his robes with a napkin. Draco shoved her away, turning to glare at Madeline.

“It’s on, Bisset.”

“Yes; the pumpkin juice is _on you_ , that’s the joke. Well done Malfoy,” Madeline nodded, as Draco stormed away, Pansy chasing after him. 

“That was _amazing!”_ Daphne gushed, wiping real tears from her eyes, “How did you do that?”

Madeline’s eyes met Fred’s, who was sat at the Gryffindor table with the biggest grin she’d ever seen on his face. She turned to Daphne, shrugging innocently.

“It pays to have friends in high places.” 


	5. 4: Triwizard Tournament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those who have left reviews/messaged me about this story. Your kind words are really motivating me to write more, so thank you!

**4: Triwizard Tournament**

Madeline sunk into her seat at the Slytherin table with a long pained groan, eyes still half shut as she slumped over her plate. She ignored the curious stares of her housemates, letting her forehead hit the table with a dull thud.

“Good morning to you too,” Theodore teased, halfway through his breakfast, “Rough night?”

“Just pass me the coffee,” Madeline mumbled grumpily, eagerly grabbing the steaming cup of black liquid, “Come here you beautiful, beautiful creature.”

Daphne raised her eyebrow at the girl, barely suppressing a smile, “Never would’ve guessed you felt that way about our Theodore.”

Madeline took a large swig of the liquid, draining half the cup. She sighed happily, turning to her friends, “Someone hexed my mattress into jelly. I basically had to sleep on a large, wobbly pudding.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing,” Theodore pointed out as he tore a chunk out of his bread roll.

“It is when you suffer from sea sickness,” Madeline groaned, “I had to sneak into the common room and sleep on the couches, which by the way, I don’t recommend.”

“Looks like you’ve made some enemies,” Daphne smirked, “It was probably Pansy. She’s been in love with Draco since first year. I’ll help you change your bed back if you want.”

“Please,” Madeline sighed, downing the rest of the coffee before refilling the mug, “I’m not spending another night on that couch, no way.”

Before the trio could continue their conversation, the hall fell into silence. Dumbledore had taken his place at the podium, his arms spread to call the attention of everyone. Madeline sleepily blinked her eyes up to the Headmaster, sipping from her mug.

“Good morning everyone,” the elderly man began, his voice booming in the silent hall, “I trust you’ve all had a wonderful few weeks back, both old and new students."

“After much deliberation with the Ministry of Magic and the staff, we have made a few exciting decisions about this school year. To begin with, it is my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.”

Shocked gasps echoed through the hall. The Gryffindor table seemed to be in quiet uproar, Madeline spotting the Weasley twins with identical gaping expressions. 

“This-” Dumbledore continued loudly, calling all attention back to him,”-is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely.”

“Fat chance,” a boy to Madeline’s left muttered, who she recognised as the Slytherin beater.

“We are to have the grand honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century,” Dumbledore beamed, “It is my _very_ _great_ _pleasure_ to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year!”

"You're JOKING!”

All eyes fell on Fred Weasley, who was halfway off his seat with wide eyes and a jolly look on his face. Most people chuckled, including Dumbledore himself.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he replied, "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar-“

He was interrupted by Professor McGonagall, who cleared her throat pointedly.

“But maybe this is not the time," continued Dumbledore, “Now, where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament! Some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.”

Madeline had been half asleep during the explanation, her arm holding her head upright. She was startled back into attention with Daphne’s hushed whisper of _“Death toll?!”_ , turning her attention back to the Headmaster.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "None of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.”

“That’s reassuring,” Madeline joked.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.”

Madeline froze.

Beauxbatons is coming to Hogwarts?

“What did he just say?!” Madeline hissed to her friends, “You’re telling me the schools are coming here?!”

“Yeah, he’s said it like twice,” Daphne replied.

Madeline felt a cold shiver ripple through her body, startling her awake. 

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, "The heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration.”

Immediately, commotion broke out in the Great Hall. Some Slytherins threw their napkins down in defiance, loudly announcing their frustrations. Even Daphne chimed in with the commotion, much to Madeline’s surprise.

“This!” Dumbledore roared loudly, bringing the room back to silence once more, “Is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion.”

“This is mental!” Daphne exclaimed to her two friends, “Have you guys ever heard of anything like this happening in Hogwarts?!”

“Obviously not,” Madeline replied pointedly.

“You know what I mean,” Daphne rolled her eyes. 

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year,” Dumbledore finished, “I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your wholehearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. But now, I believe you have a day of classes ahead. Please ensure the Triwizard Tournament does not interfere with your studies!”

“Fat chance of that,” Theodore pointed out, “I wonder who the Hogwarts champion might be?”

“I reckon we get Adrian Pucey to enter,” Daphne smirked, “He’s the team Chaser, so he won't have anything to do this year, and it would be the biggest brag of the _century_ to have a Slytherin win. Ooh, or Terence Higgs!”

“You’d have to be stupid to enter,” Madeline rolled her eyes, “Although the money doesn’t sound bad…”

“Your mum taught in Beauxbatons, right?” Daphne asked excitedly, “Does that mean you know anyone in the school?”

Madeline tenses, but shrugged nonchalantly, “Maybe. We’ll see.” 

* * *

Defence Against The Dark Arts began with everyone's excited chattering, the room buzzing with the news of the Triwizard Tournament. Madeline had kept her seat by Neville, looking at him expectantly when he didn’t join in with the chatter.

“What, not excited for the Tournament?” Madeline asked, Neville’s head turning to look at her with wide eyes.

“N-Not really,” he stumbled back, eyes now cast onto the table, “I can’t enter anyway, so-”

“Not that you should, Longbottom!” Draco Malfoy called from the back of the room, causing the Slytherins to erupt into laughter.

“Oh shut it Malfoy you grimy git,” Madeline called back, “Or do you want another round of Pumpkin Juice on your face?”

Before Draco could retort, the classroom door swung open, much like it had during their first lesson. The room fell silent as Professor Moody walked in, making his way straight to the blackboard.

“You won’t need your quills today,” Moody informed the class, turning to face everyone, “Instead, I’ll be teaching you to fend off the Imperius curse. You’ll come up one by one and attempt to fight against it as I cast it on you.”

Madeline’s eyes widened. But surely-

“But surely that’s illegal, Professor?” Hermione Granger pointed out, echoing Madeline’s thoughts, “You said - to use it against another human was -“

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swivelling onto Hermione eerily, "If you'd rather learn the hard way - when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely - fine by me. Now, clear your desks to the side of the room.”

The class did just that without a second warning, leaving a large empty space in the middle of the classroom. Moody’s eyes scanned each student, beckoning none other than Theodore Nott forwards.

And to Madeline’s great surprise, Moody immediately cast the curse on him, making him tap dance his way around the classroom in an uncharacteristically jolly way. She barely contained her laughter as he shuffle-hopped in circles, Daphne loudly cackling when Moody eventually broke the curse and caused Theodore to crumple onto the floor, exhausted.

“Greengrass, you’re next,” Moody decided, “Since you found the show so amusing.”

Theodore made his way over by Madeline’s side, muttering a “Not a word” under his breath.

Daphne had jumped around the room imitating a unicorn (which she seemed far too happy to comply with. In Madeline's opinion, she didn't need the Imperius curse). Next was a Gryffindor named Dean Thomas, who hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Another Gryffindor named Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel, ignoring Daphne’s annoyed hiss of “ _lucky_ ”. Neville seemed rather terrified when he stepped up, but  ended up performing astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state.

No one could fight off the curse, not even Pansy Parkinson, who was made to do a handstand for over three minutes. 

“Bisset, you’re up.”

Madeline stepped up to the centre of the room, Pansy bumping her shoulder against hers as she stomped past her. Madeline rolled her eyes, but stood in front of Moody. He raised his wand, and shouted “Imperio!”

And nothing happened.

Sure, she felt a little floaty, like one would in a bathtub, but she didn’t feel the need to _do_ anything. It stayed like that for a few moments, before she felt a very light nagging sensation to perform an opera. The sensation really wasn’t very strong, and she easily ignored it.

The moment Moody’s wand dropped, it felt like her stomach had turned into a brick, causing her to stumble forwards and nearly lose her balance. 

“Very impressive, Bisset,” Moody complimented, “Incredible control. You should all learn from her. Someone might think you’ve had some practice with this curse, Bisset.

“I assure you Professor, I have not,” Madeline huffed, hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. 

“We’ll try that again later, but for now, we’ll have Potter next,” Moody decided, Madeline making her way over to her two friends, who stared at her with wide eyes.

“That was amazing!” Daphne hissed, “How’d you do that?”

Madeline shrugged, whispering, “It really didn’t feel all that powerful. Maybe he cast it wrong?”

Their attention turned back to Harry, however, when he too fought the curse. That is, until he smashed headlong into a desk. Madeline hissed sympathetically, but at least he’d fought the curse.

“That’s more like it!” Moody boomed, “Two students who can sufficiently fight off the Imperius curse, although Potter might need some more immediate practice. Again!” 

* * *

The rest of Madeline’s classes passed by in a hazy, sleep-deprived blur. Snape had seemed pleased with her essay, and insisted that the class should do further research into antidotes, as he heavily hinted that he may be poisoning some of them soon. Professor Flitwick added to his workload for the students and asked them to read three more books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms (this made Daphne very, very upset). 

Divination was perhaps Madeline’s favourite lesson of the day. Although most of her classmates refused to believe in its magical properties, Madeline believed that even such a form of predictive magic must have some truth to it. She nearly fell asleep in History of Magic, but luckily Theodore had been there to nudge her back awake. 

She could barely keep her eyes open again on her way to the Great Hall, Daphne animatedly explaining how she wholeheartedly believed Professor Flitwick hated her and her alone based on his assignments. They were interrupted, however, by a large group of students all huddled around a large sign pinned to the right of the Great Hall entrance. Madeline furrowed her eyebrows.

“Can anyone see what it says?” Madeline asked her two friends, both who shook their heads. She looked around the large group until she spotted a familiar head of brown hair up ahead. Bingo.

“I’ll be back,” Madeline decided, pushing through the hoard of students until she was behind the boy. She tapped his shoulder politely, causing the Hufflepuff to beam at her.

“Hey! Have you seen this?” he asked excitedly, and Madeline realised she’d managed the perfect view of the sign; 

**_TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_ ** ****

**_THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY, AND STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST._ **

“30th of October?” Madeline wondered aloud, “How is the _impartial judge_ meant to decide who the champions are going to be by Halloween? That’s less than 24 hours.”

“Magic,” Cedric teased, “Are you going to enter?”

Madeline scoffed, “I’m not old enough, and only an idiot would enter. I’ve heard the death tolls are more impressive than the ones in Azkaban.”

Cedric grinned, walking away cheekily, “Guess that makes me an idiot then!”

The boy was pulled away by his housemates, leaving a wide-eyed Madeline calling after him, “No way Diggory, you’re joking!”

“Who’s joking?”

Madeline turned to find Harry Potter stood next to her, his friends by his side. His eyes were glued to the sign, “Half an hour early? Wicked!”

“Yeah, except for the fact that some idiot is most definitely going to get themselves killed in the tournament,” Madeline huffed, “Cedric Diggory is entering. Quidditch captain?”

“That guy, Hogwarts champion?” Ron Weasley huffed, the first words he'd spoken to Madeline in over a week, “No way.”

“He’s not all that bad, and you just don’t like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch last year,” Hermione pointed out, “ _I've_ heard he's a really good student - and he's a prefect.”

“Please Hermione, you’re a girl! You only like him because he's handsome," Ron scathingly replied.

“Excuse me?!” both Madeline and Hermione replied, the latter continuing, “I don't like people just because they're handsome!”

Ron and Hermione continued their bickering as they walked away into the Great Hall, Harry turning to Madeline sheepishly, “This is exciting, huh?”

“Sure,” Madeline rolled her eyes playfully, “Go to your friends, Potter.” 

* * *

“He’s flirting with you.”

“Is not.”

“Is too!”

“I agree with Theodore on this one,” Madeline chimed in as the three friends lounged in the Slytherin dungeon, “He’s _definitely_ flirting with you, but only because you did it first.”

Daphne groaned, throwing her head over the side of the couch and letting her potions essay fall to the ground, “Terence Higgs is most definitely _not_ flirting with me, thank you very much.”

Theodore rolled his eyes, crossing his legs, “Alright, explain what happened again.”

Daphne straightened up, “I made a sly _joke_ on the way to Divination that he should put himself forwards for the Tournament-“

_ “You told him he had the physique for it-“ _

“-And he invited me to study with him in the library,” Daphne concluded, satisfied with herself, “That is _not_ flirting; us three go to the library together all the time, and I definitely don’t want to snog either of you.” 

Theodore rolled his eyes, glancing at Madeline, who grinned back at him. He leant forwards, “You do realise he’s a sixth year, right?”

Daphne shrugged, “Yeah, so?”

“So,” Madeline continued for him, “There is literally no reason for him to study with you, unless he wants to spend more time with you, meaning _he’s flirting.”_

Daphne sat in silence for a few moments, an unreadable expression on her face. Eventually, she groaned loudly, burying her face in a plush green cushion.

Madeline laughed, “What’s the problem? He’s not bad looking, and if you don’t like him, just don’t go.”

“It’s not that simple,” Daphne sighed, which made Madeline frown.

“Yes it is,” she continued, “Make your feelings clear from the beginning, and you’ll have no misunderstandings.”

“That’s it; enough about me,” Daphne announced dramatically, spinning and crossing her legs so she was completely facing her friend, “What about you Bisset?”

“What about me?”

“Oh come on; look at you!” Daphne exclaimed, “You must have a boyfriend, surely! Come on; anything? Ooh! Maybe a tragically induced long-distance relationship!”

“Nope. I’ve never even had a boyfriend.”

Both her friends froze, “Wait, what?”

Madeline shrugged, “Sure, I had suitors. But no one I was interested in.”

“Suitors?” Theodore asked with interest, leaning forwards.

“Well yeah,” Madeline continued, treading lightly, “I was homeschooled, so there was never really a dating pool. I danced with a few people at some events, but none of them interested me.”

“Okay, but what about now?” Daphne asked, leaning forwards, “Surely there's someone in Hogwarts that's caught your eye!”

Madeline scoffed, shaking her head, “Honestly? I haven’t really thought about it all that much.”

“I still think you and Malfoy would make a cute couple,” Daphne teased, barely dodging the pillow Madeline threw her way, “What?! Chemistry is chemistry!”

“Get back to work Greengrass,” Madeline shook her head, laughing at herself.

She stared at the parchment in her lap, thinking to herself. Sure, she could appreciate how some of the boys in Hogwarts weren’t exactly ugly, but she’d never been someone who put much importance to romance. Sure, she’d probably marry some day, and probably someone of her grandmothers choosing, but she wasn’t about to throw her life away for some short-lived school romance.

And besides; she was in Hogwarts for a reason, something she seemed to be forgetting recently. Her mother had insisted on sending her here for her own protection, and she couldn’t let some fooling idea of love interfere with that. 

Madeline Bisset swore to herself that she was most definitely not going to fall in love in Hogwarts.


	6. 5: Durmstrang and Beauxbatons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited, and reviewed the story! If you could, I would appreciate it so much if you guys could leave further reviews on your thoughts on this story, or maybe even what you'd like to see! Thank you once more!

**5: Durmstrang and Beauxbatons**

The week leading up to the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang was, in Madeline’s opinion, one of the tensest situations she’d ever been in.

All the Professors seemed to be on edge, with McGonagall going as far as telling Neville to never _dare_ perform any sort of transfiguration spell in front of their oncoming visitors. The school had been scrubbed clean, including the dungeons, which now smelt of lemon and lime detergent (which made Snape very, very moody). Filch, the caretaker, went as far as sending some of the first-year Hufflepuff girls in hysterics for not scrubbing their shoes properly. 

The morning of their arrival, Madeline found herself sat in the Great Hall, which had been decorated with silken banners in different colours to represent the different houses. Behind the teachers table, a large banner covered the stained-glass window, the Hogwarts emblem on it with each of the house mascots represented. Madeline chewed on her toast as she admired the large snake decorating the banner on the wall in front of her, distracted only by Daphne and Theo's arrival.

“Rise and shine, it’s the big day!” Daphne cheerily greeted, sitting down opposite Madeline as Theo took the seat next to her, “Well, doesn’t this place look magnificent!”

Madeline raised her eyebrow at Daphne’s cheery nature, “Greengrass, have you been brainwashed?”

Theo nodded along, “Seriously, no one has the right to be this happy this early in the morning.”

“It’s the big day!” Daphne repeated, leaning in slyly and whispering, “The Durmstrang boys are coming!”

Madeline rolled her eyes, “Of course. Makes perfect sense now.”

“You do realise the schools are co-ed just like Hogwarts, right?” Theo asked, buttering a slice of toast, “In my opinion, there is _nothing_ special about Durmstrang.”

“Apart from the one, the _only,_ Viktor Krum!” Daphne hissed excitedly, “He’s a legend in the Quidditch world!” 

“Some guy,” Theo muttered, but before either girl could continue the conversation, the loud whooshing sound of owls soaring into the hall interrupted them. Madeline looked around excitedly, finally spotting that same owl she’d used to send her mother a letter.

The owl soared down onto the Slytherin table, depositing a crisp letter in her plate. She smiled gleefully at the bird, feeding it a small slice of bacon before it took flight back into the air and through the Great Hall window. 

Theo whistled, “Bloody hell, owl post takes a while to get to France doesn’t it?”

Madeline shrugged, turning the envelope around in her hands. Her name was delicately scripted at the front, the paper embellished with shiny silver detailing. She pulled the paper to her face and took a deep breath; it even smelt like her house.

“Do you two need a moment alone?” Daphne joked, but Madeline ignored her. Instead, she finally opened the envelope;

_My Dearest Madeline,_

_The house feels empty without you. I’m glad to hear that you’re settling into Hogwarts nicely. In fact, Dumbledore himself has been updating me on your progress. It seems that you have an affinity with Potions!_

_Slytherin makes perfect sense for you, from what I know about the house, but please try and stay out of trouble?_

_I’ve decided to return to Beauxbaton to substitute the supervising teachers for the Triwizard Tournament coming to Hogwarts (very exciting!). It might be a better idea to address any further letters to the school, perhaps this will be faster._

_While you’re in Hogwarts, I hope you take some time to discover more about your father's heritage. From what I know, he was quite a charmer back in the day. Write to me soon, my darling._

_Lots of love,_

_Eloise Bisset._

The letter was short, formal, and sweet. Exactly like her mother. Madeline found herself beaming at the short paragraphs, ignoring Theo and Daphne’s fond expressions towards her. She tucked the letter in her robe, making a mental note to write back soon.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the day passed with distractions in each class. No one could concentrate with the upcoming arrival of the schools, a pleasant feeling of anticipation falling over Hogwarts.

Madeline and her two friends lined up with the rest of the Slytherins as all the houses stood in the courtyard, ready to welcome the new arrivals. The entrance to Hogwarts had been illuminated with floating candles, much like the Great Hall, but the wind did nothing to blow out the flames. The Slytherins stood between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, the lines of students illuminated by the golden candlelight as dusk started to set.

Madeline and her friends stood on the steps leading to the Great hall, the fourth row from the front. Draco and his goons were only a few students away, Pansy casting Madeline a nasty look every few minutes.

“It’s freezing!” Daphne said, burrowing her hands in her robe pockets, “Can they hurry up already?”

“It’s nearly six,” Theo replied, checking his watch, “They’ll be arriving any minute.”

“Well, they should hurry up,” Daphne stressed, looking around eagerly, “They can’t be arriving by train, can they?”

“Absolutely not,” Madeline shook her head, “Beauxbatons travels by sky.”

“What do you mea- BLOODY HELL!” Daphne exclaimed loudly, pointing at the Forbidden Forest. Or rather, above it, “LOOK!”

“It’s a dragon!” one of the Gryffindor first years shrieked, but Madeline just smirked, crossing her arms expectantly. 

A gigantic, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soared toward them. It was pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant. 

“That’s more like it,” Madeline nodded approvingly as her friends gaped at the sight. 

The carriage hurled closer, some students taking precautionary steps back. Madeline stood her stance, watching in amusement as people stumbled back once the horses hit the ground. Neville stumbled back, almost stepping on Madeline’s feet but narrowly missing, but the girl was far more preoccupied by the sight in front of her to help him.

The horses elegantly tossed their heads back, shaking their mane in vanity at the open stares they received from the students. The Beauxbatons coat of arms gleamed proudly on the carriage door, which opened seconds later.

A first year Beauxbatons student hopped out of the carriage first. He graciously uncurled a set of golden steps from the edge of the carriage, standing proudly by its side as the headmistress stepped out.

“That,” Theo whistled quietly, “Is a woman.”

Madame Olympe Maxime liked to travel with her students, but was always the first to make an entrance. Her tall (very tall) stature was a sight to behold, resembling the likes of Hagrid’s size. She was most definitely beautiful, in Madeline’s opinion, dressed in dark silks and a fancily decorated coat. Dumbledore was the first to clap, followed by the rest of Hogwarts.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said, stepping forwards. She smiled, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore had barely to bend to kiss it, “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

The two heads of schools talked amicably for a while, discussing how the horses would be tended to. Theo, however, drew his friends attention to the students emerging from the carriage.

“There they are,” Theo whispered, “Look!”

A dozen of boys and girls had emerged from the carriage, standing behind Madame Maxime elegantly. Their uniforms were made of fine blue silk, pointed woven hats in the same shade on their heads. They shivered slightly as the looked at the castle, and Madeline could already tell they weren’t very impressed.

She scanned the small crowd for familiar faces, and thankfully, she’d only spotted a few. Fleur Delacour stood proudly with her younger sister, her pale hand gripping the younger ones’ tightly. She recognised a few more of the girls from past balls she’d attended, as well as two of the boys. And of course-

Adam Louis, who stood with the rest of the school with his nose stuck high in the air, a frown on his face. 

“Shit,” Madeline cursed herself quietly, going unheard by the rest of her house.

Dumbledore invited the new arrivals inside to warm up as the Hogwarts students waited for Durmstrang’s arrival. However, the whispers had already started.

“I heard they’re all Veelas.”

“Yeah? I heard they’re all rich!” 

“I bet you anything that blonde boy is going to be the Beauxbatons champion.”

“Hogwarts loves gossip, doesn’t it?” Madeline sighed to Theo, who nodded sympathetically, “How’d you feel about the new arrivals, Greengrass?”

Daphne shrugged, “Looked pretentious to me; they’ll fit right in with Malfoy’s lot.”

Madeline snickered, her eyes darting over to the Gryffindor cluster of students. She spotted Harry, who gave her a small smile, which she returned with a small wave. Behind him, the two Weasley twins were talking animatedly with Dean Thomas, all of which turned to watch the Great Lake.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, turning to watch the body of water. Although they were quite far away, their spot on the steps allowed them to see the majority of the lake easily. 

And then she saw it.

“The Lake!” a boy in Gryffindor yelled.

A disturbance seemed to be taking place deep in the centre of the lake; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks. Madeline watched in awe as the water tossed and turned on the surface.

A ship began rising out of the water, glistening in the moonlight. It glided easily to the edge of the lake, it’s skeletal form eery in the darkness of the evening. Loud murmurs were travelling between the Hogwarts students as the ship hit the bank, a large anchor splashing into the shallow of the Lake. A plank was lowered onto the sand.

“Dramatic,” Theo whispered.

The Durmstrang students began disembarking, almost in a military fashion. Each one of them was bulked up by layer of cloaks and furs, including their headmaster. They hastily made their way to the castle, lead by their headmaster, Igor Karkaroff. McGonagall was the one to initiate the clapping this time. 

"Dumbledore!" the headmaster called as he walked up the slope, "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied, clapping the man on his shoulder. 

Madeline raised her eyebrow at Professor Karkaroff. He was tall, like Dumbledore, with a long dark goatee and curling long dark hair. He stood proudly, presenting one of his students forwards.

"How good it is to be here,” Igor boomed, his eyes scanning the crowds of students before addressing Dumbledore, “Viktor, come along, into the warmth… You don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold.”

Madeline didn’t need to see Daphne to know her jaw had dropped.

“It’s Viktor Krum!”

Theo rolled his eyes, the Hogwarts students beginning to file back into the school as the Durmstrang students joined them, “He’s just a Quidditch player.”

“A _hot_ Quidditch player,” Daphne argued.

“Higgs will be happy to know you have a thing for Quidditch players,” Madeline joked, nudging her friend playfully.

“Oh put a sock in it,” Daphne laughed. 

Madeline spotted some of the Gryffindors frantically jumping up and down to catch a better look at the Quidditch celebrity. She rolled her eyes; yes he was a celebrity, but this commotion? It was a little bit dramatic. She had to physically stop Daphne from joining them, dragging her into the Great Hall with Theodore in tow. 

“He’s definitely going to be the Durmstrang champion,” Daphne sighed as the three stood by the Slytherin table, “Isn’t this so exciting?”

“You’re doing that weird happy thing again,” Madeline joked, but it was lost to deaf ears as Daphne spotted the Durmstrang students standing awkwardly by the doors of the Great Hall. The Beauxbatons students had situated themselves at the Ravenclaw table, but the Durmstrang students…

“I’ll be right back!” Daphne called, already halfway to the back of the hall.

Madeline rolled her eyes at the peppiness of the girl. She was clearly starstruck, and if it had been anyone else, Madeline wouldn’t have hesitated to tease her relentlessly. Before she knew it, Daphne had convinced the Durmstrang students to sit with the Slytherin table, much to Theo’s disappointment.

Everyone pushed down the table as they made room for their new students. Malfoy avidly stared as Krum sat himself to Theo’s left, right next to Daphne, who was still chatting animatedly. The Durmstrang students watched in awe at the enchanted sky. Madeline rolled her eyes as Daphne’s ridiculousness, but before she could engage anyone in conversation, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime entered the hall.

Four extra chairs had been placed at the teachers table, each of the newest Professors taking one each. Dumbledore stood at his podium, the room falling into silence.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," Dumbledore smiled, “I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.”

The Durmstrang students seemed interested in Dumbledore's words, but the Beauxbatons students seemed rather… Bored.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," announced Dumbledore, "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!”

The tables filled themselves with plates on plates of food, perhaps the most extravagant feast Madeline had witnessed in Hogwarts. She eagerly began plating portions into her plate, the Durmstrang students following her lead eagerly. 

“This is extravagant,” Madeline commented, eyes gazing over the array of different foods, presumably to welcome the new guests, “Ooh, bouillabaisse!”

Krum plated some pelmeni for himself, turning to Daphne, “It’s very nice of Dumbledore to mix our cuisines like this.”

“Yeah,” Daphne nodded eagerly, grabbing the plate of Yorkshire puddings between her and Theo, “Here, try this!” 

Madeline rolled her eyes, but happily indulged herself in the French food before her. It felt like years since she’d eaten bouillabaisse, something that had been one of her mothers favourite dishes to make. It made her feel a little homesick, but she quickly pushed that away.

Ludo Bagman and Mr. Crouch had entered the hall at some point during the feast, taking their seats on either side of Dumbledore. Theodore had noticed their hushed talking, deciding to ignore Krum altogether. He nudged Madeline.

“Look who’s arrived,” Theo said, gesturing at the teachers table. 

Madeline peered at the two strangers, looked back at Theodore, and shrugged, “No clue who they are mate.”

Theo rolled his eyes, “They work for the Ministry. They organised this whole thing.”

The rest of the feast was spent with the Durmstrang students engaging in short bouts of small talk, Daphne eagerly explaining Hogwarts to Krum, and Malfoy trying avidly to gain the boys attention. The second course of food also served a number of new dishes, including a pale blancmange, which Madeline eagerly ate more than one portion of.

Dumbledore stood once the plates had been wiped clean, tension filling the air. Excitement bubbled in the students as the man began speaking.

“The moment has come!” he exclaimed with excitement, “The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket-“

“They’re taking the whole death thing quite seriously, good to know,” Madeline joked quietly to Theodore.

“Let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” Dumbledore began, a small burst of applause following, "And Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

Madeline recognised him as the applause grew greater; Bagman had been a famous beater when he’d played Quidditch. 

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, “And they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts. The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch.”

Everyone's attention sharpened as Filch approached Dumbledore, carrying a large wooden chest, encrusted with jewels. Everyone began murmuring in excitement, dying down as Dumbledore continued.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," continued Dumbledore as Filch placed the large chest on the floor, upright, "They have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. 

“There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways; their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger. "

The hall was silent as everyone watched Filch unlace the buckle of the chest.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore continued calmly, as of the excitement in the room couldn’t touch him, ”One from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector…”

“Here we go,” Madeline murmured excitedly.

“The Goblet Of Fire!”

Dumbledore pulled the Goblet out of the large chest. It was large, much larger than a normal goblet, made of a dark grey stone. It would have been completely unexceptional, had there not been blue flames dancing out of it, as if trying to reach the ceiling.

“Wicked,” Madeline heard Daphne whisper.

The casket was closed by Filch as Dumbledore placed the Goblet on top of it. Instantly, the casket became stone too, creating a large unmoving statue, the Goblet tauntingly unmoving at the top. The whole statue was just a little taller than Dumbledore himself. 

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," boomed Dumbledore, "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. 

“The Goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.”

“An Age Line? That’s it?” Theo wondered aloud.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the Goblet.”

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows as Dumbledore's gaze fell on her, for just a few seconds, before turning back to the hall, “Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all!”


	7. 6: The Goblet Of Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Champions are chosen

**6: The Goblet of Fire**

Halloween morning; only a few hours until the Champions would be chosen.

Usually, students wouldn’t wake up until later on a Saturday. However, with the prospect of the Goblet of Fire standing in the Entrance Hall, all the students seemed to be awake even earlier than usual, eager to see who’d be brave enough to put their name forwards.

Madeline was one of the last of the Slytherin girls to get out of bed. She rolled herself into an oversized brown and green knitted jumper, tucking the front into a pair of straight-legged light brown plaid trousers. She hadn’t brought many clothes over from France, as her family tended to be very… _Extravagant_ with their style. Slipping into whatever shoes she could find, she got herself ready and made her way down to breakfast.

Except, when she got there, it was even worse than she’d expected.

Clusters of students blocked the Great Hall entrance. Most were trying to sneak a peek at the Goblet, some were simply trying to spot Viktor Krum. Madeline rolled her eyes, turning on her heel. She’d have to wait a little longer for her breakfast.

She stopped in her tracks, however, when she spotted two familiar heads of ginger hair just around the corner from the Entrance Hall. With them, another Gryffindor who Madeline had yet to meet. The trio had vials of blue liquid in front of them, all excitedly clutching them as they whispered to each other quietly.

“On three, right?” the third boy asked, looking at the twins expectantly.

“You got it,” one of the twins replied, Madeline couldn’t be sure which one.

“One…”

“Two…

“Three!”

They all brought the vials to their mouths, taking a few drops of the liquid into their mouths. The third boy grimaced, but the twins seemed far too content with themselves to care about the taste. Madeline made her way over, the curiosity far too strong to bare.

“What’cha doing?” 

The twins spun around in surprise, one of them breaking into a face-splitting grin. He immediately pulled his arm around the Slytherin’s shoulder, pulling her into the inner circle.

“My dear Maddy, you are the first to witness pure genius at work,” Fred announced, holding his vial proudly, “This, young snake, is an Ageing Potion!”

Madeline rolled her eyes, “Do you _really_ think this is going to work?”

“Totally,” George Weasley confirmed, easily accepting Madeline’s presence after a short nod from Fred.

“It’s brilliant,” the third boy confirmed, a matching grin on his face, “It’ll definitely work.”

Madeline sighed, shaking her head, “You know what? I want to see this.”

The trio smirked at each other, Fred releasing his hold on the girl as the three raced each other to the Entrance Hall. Madeline shook her head fondly, completely missing the wink Fred threw at her over his shoulder, and George playfully shoving his brother. She followed the path the trio had taken into the hall, seating herself at the furthest bench to the left of the room.

“Anyone put their name in yet?” Madeline asked, climbing onto the highest point of the bench and seating herself next to Tracy Davis, a fifth-year Slytherin with a round face that eerily resembled Nevilles.

Tracy pulled herself away from her mug, shaking her head as she swallowed her tea, “No one from Hogwarts.”

“The Durmstrang students put theirs in hours ago,” Daphne chimed in, climbing onto the bench and perching herself on the edge, “They’re running laps around the Quidditch field right now. Do you think they even _feel_ cold?”

Tracy leant forwards, nodding her head to the other side of the hall, “Looks like the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan are about to do it.”

Daphne frowned when she spotted the three, animatedly talking to the Golden Trio, “They’re not of age, are they?”

Madeline stayed silent, leaning back and crossing her arms. She watched as Hermione tried to dissuade them to no avail, mimicking Madeline’s previous eye-roll almost perfectly. Fred stood on the edge of the age line with a small scrap of parchment in his hand, his feet bouncing in excitement.

Everyone’s eyes were on the twins as Fred took a step, crossing the age line. Immediately, all the Gryffindors began cheering, George following suit and stepping through the age line not a moment later.

“They did it,” Daphne mused, perching her head on her hand, somewhat impressed.

“Just wait,” Madeline sighed.

Suddenly, a loud sizzling sound echoed in the hall. Before they knew what was happening, both the twins were hurled out of the circle, landing a painful ten feet away from the Goblet. The Slytherins were the first to laugh, the sound amplifying as the duo sprouted an identical set of long grey beards. Even Fred and George joined in with the laughter once the initial shock had worn off. 

Lee Jordan howled with laughter, patting his best friends on the back, “I think you guys should go get seen by Madame Pomfrey.” 

Madeline shook her head fondly, chuckling a little. The twins were a piece of work, that was for sure. The three girls stayed in the Entrance Hall for a little while longer, waiting to see if anyone else would put their names forwards. Unfortunately, no one did.

“We should get breakfast,” Daphne suggested eventually, the three girls hopping off the bench and making their way towards the Great Hall. Tracy began an exciting story about a new secret passageway she’d found on the fourth floor, Daphne a little _too_ interested in the location.

They’d barely made it through the doors, however, when they heard the shrill sound of Gryffindor contempt.

"There's a rumour going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean Thomas told his small group of Gryffindor boys, all standing by the entrance of the Great Hall in a huddle, “You know, that big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth.”

Seamus Finnigan shook his head in disgust, “We can't have a Slytherin champion, especially not that oaf!” 

The three stopped in their tracks. Daphne and Madeline quickly turned to Tracy. Although it wasn’t a secret in Slytherin that Tracy and Cassius Warrington were dating, Madeline assumed that the rest of the school probably didn’t care enough to keep up with what their house did, unless it directly made them look like the bad guys.

Cassius had been on the Quidditch team the year before. He was relatively quiet, and kept to himself. It didn’t take long for Madeline to realise that he was extremely, _extremely_ shy. Despite this, he was one of the best Transfigurations students Hogwarts had ever seen, and most definitely did _not_ deserve to be called a sloth or an oaf, thank you very much.

Tracy looked upset, and within good reason. Daphne glared at the group of boys, drawing her wand. Madeline, however, put her arm out to stop her. She wasn’t about to let her friend get detention. 

“And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," continued Seamus contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks. All hair and no brain that one, I’m telling you.”

Alright; now they’d done it.

Madeline and Daphne strode their way over to the boys, Daphne with far more fire in her eyes than Madeline had ever seen her with. Dean and Seamus instantly spun to meet the glares of the witches, shrinking into themselves instantly as they spotted the green ties.

“I’d like to see you have the balls to put your name in that Goblet, Seamus,” Madeline barked, “Because you sure as _hell_ wouldn’t dare go near that thing even if you were of age.”

“And you,” Daphne continued, turning to glare at Dean, “Who exactly do you think you are to talk about Warrington like that? Because from what I remember, he kicked _all_ of your asses in Quidditch last year. And the year before that.”

Tracy watched the girls in awe, who’d now managed to create a small crowd of Hogwarts students around them. The two Gryffindor boys smirked, nudging their friends cockily. Seamus stepped forwards, “You really think two girls scare us?”

“We should,” Madeline snapped back, glancing at Daphne with a glint in her eyes, “You can find out what happens when you cross a Slytherin, or, you can apologise.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Seamus replied smugly, pulling his wand out. By now, the vast majority of the Great Hall was watching them.

Theodore Nott had just walked through the door, spotting the two girls and groaning, rushing over to Tracy, “What the hell are they doing?”

“Seamus and his mates,” Tracy replied simply. Theo rolled his eyes, stepping into the circle.

“Guys, seriously,” Theodore interrupted, stepping between Seamus and Madeline, the latter dangerously close to hexing the daylights out of the Gryffindor, “It’s like 8am, at least save it for lunch.”

“Ooh, got your little friend to protect you now have you Bisset?” Dean mocked, stepping up next to Seamus.

“Seriously, _cut it out,_ ” Theo pressed.

“Don’t get involved, Nott,” Madeline interrupted, “These two twats can’t seem to grasp the concept of common courtesy. We’re giving them a refresher.”

“Seriously, either you guys do it or-“

“And _what_ is going on here?!” 

All the students parted as Moody hobbled into the fight, everyone lowering their wands immediately. The Professor took one look at the four students before shaking his head, his magic eye fixated on the two Gryffindor boys.

“Professor,” Tracy stepped forwards, “The boys were making nasty remarks about other students. The girls were just defending me.”

Moody watched the girl steadily. He nodded, the silence coming from the Gryffindor boys being enough to confirm her story, “Mister Thomas and Mister Finnigan, I suggest you keep your comments to yourselves in the future. Ten points from Gryffindor.”

“Yes Sir,” the two boys mumbled.

“And ladies,” Moody continued, sharply turning to them, “You should never threaten another student, no matter how much they deserve it. Ten points from Slytherin.”

“Yes Professor,” Daphne nodded solemnly. 

“I would have you all in detention, but Dumbledore seems to think I should be easier on you lot,” Moody gave each of them one long look, turning to the rest of the students who’d gathered around them, “What are you lot standing around for? Get to breakfast, all of you!” 

Immediately, students began dispersing, Moody hobbling his way over to the teachers table. He stared at Madeline for a few seconds longer, his magic eye transfixed creepily. Madeline turned to walk to her own house table, but not without turning and glaring at Seamus one last time. She hooked her arm around Daphne’s, walking to her table with her head held high.

“I swear, I can’t leave you two alone for a moment,” Theo grumbled lightheartedly, “What did they say anyway?” 

“Warrington put his name in the Goblet, and they were poking fun at him,” Daphne explained shortly, turning to the fourth member of their breakfast gang, “Sorry, Tracy.”

Tracy shook her head, “You guys shouldn’t apologise. They were being right gits.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully that’ll teach them,” Madeline sighed, the four seating themselves down at their table, “I’ve yet to land in detention, and I _definitely_ want to keep that lucky streak going.”

Breakfast passed by without any further surprises. There was a rumour circling that Cedric had, in fact, ended up putting his name in the Goblet, and so had Angelina Johnson, a Gryffindor. Daphne had voiced, quite loudly, that she hoped Warrington would be the Hogwarts champion, while Nott just hoped the whole ordeal would be over and done with soon, eventually leaving the group in favour of his Transfigurations homework.

“So, Greengrass,” Tracy leant in towards Daphne, “What’s this I hear about Terence Higgs?”

Daphne nearly spat her juice out, her eyes bulging out of their sockets. She looked at Madeline helplessly.

“Daphne has a big fat crush on Viktor Krum see,” Madeline explained casually, “It would be a shame to lead Higgs on like that, in my opinion-“

“Shut it Bisset,” Daphne hissed, turning to Tracy, “I haven’t made my mind up yet. He’s nice, but he’s also Terence Higgs, you know?”

Tracy nodded, turning to Madeline, “What about you? Any boys catching your eye?”

“Nope. I can’t do this again,” Madeline announced, pushing herself away from the table dramatically, “I had enough of this with Daphne and Theo, I’m not sitting through breakfast on _halloween_ talking about boys. I’m going to the library.” 

Tracy laughed as the girl stood up, “Catch you later, Bisset.”

* * *

Four essays and a full day in the library later, Madeline found Cedric lazing on one of the benches in the west courtyard, receiving rounds of congratulations from different Hufflepuffs. Madeline huffed, rolling her sleeves up. Oh, he was in for it.

“Cedric Diggory!” she called dramatically, striding across the courtyard, “Please, _please_ tell me you didn’t put your name in the Goblet of Fire.”

The Hufflepuff students who’d been surrounding the boy quickly dispersed, already having heard word of Madeline’s temper, especially after her morning stunt with the Gryffindor boys. Cedric, however, grinned charmingly.

“The deed is done Bisset,” Cedric announced cheekily, “My name is in the- Ow! What was that for?!”

Madeline rolled her eyes, “I punched your shoulder because you’re an _idiot,_ and you’re lucky that wasn’t your face.”

“You can’t solve your problems with violence,” Cedric teased, the Slytherin girl taking a seat next to him on the bench, “But, seriously? I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’ll get picked anyway. Dozens of people put their names in the Goblet.”

“Yeah, and most of them are Gryffindors who want to see themselves as heroes,” Madeline snorted, “If the Goblet is like the Sorting Hat, it’ll pick you. I’m sure of it.”

“Awh, it’s nearly as if you care,” Cedric teased, nudging her playfully. Madeline swatted his hand away, huffing.

“I’m not coming to your funeral if you die in this thing,” Madeline announced dramatically, sticking her nose in the air and crossing her arms.

Cedric laughed, shaking his head, “Alright then Bisset, guess I’ll have to haunt you from the afterlife.”

“You’d like that."

“And what’s this I hear about you starting a fight in the Entrance Hall this morning?” Cedric asked, “I would’ve never spoken to you had I known you were a criminal-“

“Some Gryffindor assholes were being assholes,” Madeline shrugged, “Nothing happened; Moody stopped it.”

“Disappointing,” Cedric tutted.

“I can hardly believe you, a Hufflepuff, is encouraging violence on school grounds,” Madeline gasped dramatically.

“Hufflepuffs aren’t spineless creatures, you know?” Cedric replied, “Kind of like how not all Slytherins are pure-blood supremacists. Or at least, I hope.”

“We’re not, although the topic doesn’t really come up in conversation in the common room,” Madeline continued, “At least, I’d hope it wasn’t the case either.”

“You’re from a pure-blood family, right?” Cedric asked, the tone turning much more serious from their playful banter, “Aren’t your family, you know, _strict_ on all of that?”

“My grandparents? Sure. My mother? I don’t think she could care less,” Madeline replied honestly, “She wants me to marry into a good family, but she’d much rather see me with a Muggle than a Death Eater.”

“And what about you? What do you think about it all?”

Madeline paused. “Can I be honest?”

Cedric nodded.

“I don’t think about blood purity much, because I know I don’t personally care for it,” Madeline explained, “Like; to me, it makes no difference if someone is muggle-born or pure-blood. We’re still all in the same place, are we not? But If I were to say that in my house, in front of my _grandmother_ , she’d probably have me sent away.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid to be who you are around family,” Cedric replied softly, “Did your grandmother send you here?”

Madeline opened her mouth, ready to reply. However, she was interrupted when she spotted a familiar flash of blue silk passing through the walkway on the other side of the courtyard. She stood up speedily.

“I have to go do something,” Madeline said, “Speak to you later, yeah?”

“Sure,” Cedric shrugged, Madeline already walking away from the Hufflepuff, “Oi! Wish me luck will you?!”

“Never!” Madeline called back over her shoulder, picking up her pace.

She jogged across the courtyard, ducking under one of the arches leading to the covered stone walkway. She rushed past numerous classrooms, her eyes darting past students until they finally landed on the blue silk robes. Her face broke out in a massive smile.

“Fleur!” she called excitedly, nearing the small gaggle of girls, “Fleur!”

The girls turned around, watching Madeline curiously as she slowed down in front of them. A girl with long blonde hair furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes eventually widening in realisation as a smile broke out on her face. 

“Madeline!” she laughed, rushing over to the girl and taking her in a warm hug, “I can’t believe you’re here!”

“I can’t believe _you’re_ here,” Madeline laughed as the two broke away. They began to converse in French, much to the confusion of the many Hogwarts students roaming around them, “ _How are you?!”_

_“I’m fantastic, but you!”_ Fleur said, throwing her hands up in the air, “ _How are you at Hogwarts of all places? I thought your mother tutored you. Couldn’t you have come to Beauxbatons?”_

_“It’s a long story,”_ Madeline replied, _“But tell me, how are things in Carcassonne?”_

Fleur rolled her eyes playfully, _“Oh, you know how it is; quiet, as always. You should come visit on your break.”_

_“I will,”_ Madeline promised, the distinct sound of Fleur’s friends coughing interrupting them.

“ _I should get back to the others; Madame Maxime wants to make sure we’ve all put our names in the Goblet,”_ Fleur smiled apologetically _, “I’ll speak to you later?”_

_“_ Absolutely,” Madeline smiled, giving her one last brief hug before the two parted ways, “ _See you later!”_

* * *

The Halloween feast was magnificent. Pumpkin stew was handed out liberally, with delicious spiced breads and rich puddings. A tall pitcher of blackcurrant squash was passed between the three Slytherin friends as the laughed and chatted animatedly, enchanted bats flying above them, disappearing and reappearing into the charmed night sky.

Madeline had been eating a cheekily-decorated ghost biscuit (which Peeves found very, very amusing) when Dumbledore stood, the entire room falling silent in anticipation. The plates were cleared instantly, save for the single biscuit Madeline still held in her hand. The Goblet of Fire stood proudly at the front of the hall, where Dumbledore’s podium could usually be found.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," announced Dumbledore, tension rising in the room, "Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated the door behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

“The Trophy Room,” Theo commented quietly, “How fitting.”

Dumbledore waved his wand, and suddenly, all the candles in the room dimmed, casting the Great Hall in a semi-darkness only akin to dusk. The Goblet shone brightly, it’s blue flames casting shadows on Dumbledore's face. Everyone’s eyes were fixated on those flames, even Madeline finding herself a little transfixed.

Suddenly, the flames turned red. They grew larger for a few moments, shrinking only after they’d spat a small, charred piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught the parchment, peering at it through his half-moon spectacles.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read as the flames returned to blue, "Will be Viktor Krum!”

Applause swept the hall, some students even standing up. Krum stood up, his classmates and even some of the Slytherins clapping him on the back, celebrating him. 

“I knew it!” Daphne hissed, applauding frantically and ignoring Theo’s pointed glare.

Krum made his way to the teachers table, shaking hands with the three Headmasters before making his way into the Trophy Room. Silence fell upon the hall again.

The Goblet’s flames turned red almost immediately, spitting another piece of charred parchment. Dumbledore read this one much faster.

“The champion for Beauxbatons," boomed Dumbledore, “Will be Fleur Delacour!”

Everyone in the hall clapped politely as Fleur stood from the Ravenclaw table, confidently marching her way up to the Headmasters.

Although Madeline most definitely didn’t endorse the competition, it was also definitely not fair that Fleur wasn’t getting the same applause Krum had. So, with a boatload of confidence and very little care for the world, Madeline stood up.

“LET’S GO, DELACOUR!” Madeline yelled, and although she did attract some curious stares, it did cause the hall to implode in more applause and whistles, the Ravenclaws following suit and standing too. Fleur gave Madeline an elegant yet cheery wave of gratitude as she stood by the teachers table.

“You know her?” Daphne asked as Madeline sat back down.

“Family friends,” Madeline nodded vaguely, the hall turning back to silence as Fleur stepped into the Trophy Room. 

The room felt even more tense than it had before as the Goblet once again shot red flames high into the air. The final name emerged, Dumbledore grabbing the parchment easily. Everyone held their breaths, even Madeline, as he spoke aloud;

"The Hogwarts champion is…”

“Oh out with it already!” Daphne whispered impatiently.

“Cedric Diggory!”

Every Hufflepuff in the room began roaring and cheering, jumping to their feet, some even on the benches themselves. Madeline noticed a small commotion happen at the Gryffindor table, but she was far busier watching Cedric walk towards Dumbledore. She felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but shook herself out of it, standing and cheering just as loudly as the Hufflepuffs had. 

“Can’t believe Pretty Boy is the Hogwarts champion, he’s going to get eaten alive,” Malfoy grumbled, but Madeline pointedly ignored him, cheering louder just to drown him out.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore continued once everyone had quietened down, “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-“

“Wait, what’s going on?” Theodore asked loudly, the entire Slytherin table following his gaze.

Dumbledore had been distracted by the Goblet. It’s flames had turned red again, sprouting higher than they’d ever done before. Everyone held their breaths as Dumbledore, too, looked surprised. Finally, one final slip of parchment fluttered down into Dumbledore's hands.

A long pause followed, only interrupted by Dumbledore clearing his throat.

“Harry Potter.”

Silence.

Every single head in the Great Hall turned to look at the boy. Some in awe, some in anger. Madeline, however, was confused. There was absolutely no way Harry Potter, the scrawny boy he was, had managed to put his name in the Goblet of Fire.

No applause followed as Hermione pushed Harry to stand, every student in the hall murmuring lowly. He stood still, until Dumbledore shook himself out of his own stupor.

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore called once more, “Up here, if you please!"

“What the hell?” Daphne whispered, “How’d he manage that?!”

“He didn’t put his name in, he couldn’t have,” Madeline shook her head in disbelief. Could he?

The room felt charged with energy, but it didn’t feel good. It felt angry, angry that Harry Potter would be taking all the praise and glory once more.

Madeline was _not_ about to have a quiet year, that’s for sure. 


	8. 7: The Daily Prophet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Daily Prophet, and how it brought Madeline and Harry together

**CHAPTER 7: The Daily Prophet**

November came with a chilling breeze, much like the one that seemed to sweep Harry Potter away.

Ron was angry at him. The rest of his house were too, or were far more interested with finding out _how_ he’d put his name in the Goblet. The Hufflepuffs had turned cold with the Gryffindors, which apparently had also been Harry’s fault, somehow. Even Neville avoided him!

Harry found himself in the Owlery that November morning, having skipped breakfast. He’d sent a letter out to Sirius as soon as he could, thanks to Hermione's influence, but he couldn’t find it in himself to leave. How could he possibly face the entire school, half of which couldn’t bare to look at him? He'd much rather stay in the cold Owlery tower until the Tournament was over, thank you very much.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sat in the Owlery before the sound of gentle footsteps caught his attention. He turned his head to the entrance of the Owlery, and to his surprise, none other than Madeline Bisset appeared, a Slytherin scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. She barely registered his presence, instead rushing over to a school owl and tying a letter to its talons. She argued with the bird for a few moments, feeding it treats, before it took off. Both of them watched it soar out into the sky in silence.

Eventually, Madeline turned to look at the boy properly for the first time, pausing for just a moment, as if considering something, before walking over to him, seating herself next to him.

“So,” she started awkwardly, drawing her knees up to her chest, “Who do you think put your name in the Goblet?”

Harry snapped his head round, staring at Madeline in a mix of confusion and delight. For once, someone didn’t think he’d done it? He felt immediate relief. 

“I have no idea,” Harry replied honestly, “And, for the record, I’m not happy about it.”

Madeline snorted, “Well, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t be skulking with a bunch of birds. The whole Tournament is a glorified death trap, and you definitely aren’t in a position to try your luck with death, again.”

Harry smiled softly at the girls’ attitude, turning his head back round, watching the sky through one of the windows, “You’ve been here a month now, haven’t you?”

“Just about, yeah,” Madeline nodded, adding sarcastically, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

The two sat in a comfortable silence. Harry didn’t have anything to say, and Madeline knew that she’d said enough.

* * *

The next day, Madeline had decided to once again venture to the west courtyard, where most of the fourth-year students were lounging inbetween classes. She sat with Theo and Daphne on a stone bench, the latter sat on the ground with her back leaning against Madeline’s legs.

A Hufflepuff girl named Hannah Abbott had made her way around the small groups, offering _‘Potter Stinks!’_ badges. Madeline politely declined (much to Daphne's dismay), charming them to say ‘ _Gryffindor Sucks!_ ** _’_ **when the Hufflepuff girl wasn’t looking. To her surprise, most people in the courtyard wore them.

Sat in a tree on the other side of the courtyard was Malfoy, who Madeline pointedly ignored. She focused on the book in her hands as him and his goons loudly chatted and laughed together, mostly at other students expenses. Honestly, she was lucky she didn’t spend all that much time around him in the Slytherin dungeons. It was only when a certain Gryffindor walked past did the conversation get interesting, and also a lot more public. 

"Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," Malfoy loudly announced to his trusty goons. Everyone's eyes turned to the Boy Who Lived, who stood in front of the tree like a deer in headlights.

“Here we go,” Madeline grumbled as Malfoy continued. 

”Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer,” Malfoy announced to the courtyard, jumping down from the tree and making his way over to Harry, “How long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter?”

“Honestly Malfoy, sometimes I can’t tell if your squawking is _you_ , or a Mandrake with bad breath,” Madeline called from the side of the courtyard, earning herself a sharp nudge from Theo, “Oi, what?”

Snickers echoed through the courtyard, particularly from the Gryffindors, as Theo hissed, “Don’t get involved!”

“Why not?”

“Because Moody already has an eye on both of you,” Theo pointed out, gesturing at his two friends, “And if we lose even _one more_ house point, then Pansy turning your bed to jelly will be the least of your problems.”

Madeline huffed and she stood up, “Alright fine, but I’m going to watch.”

“Me too,” Daphne agreed, following her friend over closer to the tree. By now, a small group had formed around the Gryffindor and Slytherin boys, the trio of friends pushing in front of the crowd.

“Go on then Potter, how’d you do it?” Malfoy sneered, arrogance seeping out of his every pore, “My father and I have a bet you see; I don’t think you’re going to last ten minutes in this tournament. He disagrees, he thinks you won't last _five!”_

“I don’t give a damn what your father thinks, _Malfoy,”_ Harry suddenly snapped back, pushing the blonde boy away from him. An echo of ‘ _oohs_ ’ circled the two, edging on the fight, “He’s vile, and cruel, and you’re just _pathetic.”_

Harry turned away, ready to walk away from the fight. Malfoy, however, had other plans. He whipped his wand out of his robe sleeve, pointing it at Harry’s back. The crowd gasped.

“Pathetic? I’ll show you pathetic,” Malfoy sneered, raising his wand.

Before he could utter a single incantation, a blast of light hit Malfoy, coming from behind a pillar by the nearby walkway. Professor Moody stepped out just as Malfoy began shrinking- 

And turning into a small white ferret.

Madeline was the first to burst out in giggles, clutching her stomach tightly as she dissolved in a fit of laughter. Everyone joined moments after, Daphne barely keeping herself upright. The ferret looked around in confusion as Moody stumbled over, muttering as he commanded the ferret with his wand. 

“Oh no you don’t laddie. Serves you right; trying to attack a student when their back is turned,” the Professor mumbled under the roaring sound of laughter. Even Harry Potter was grinning ear to ear.

Moody’s wand controlled the ferret - Malfoy, lifting it up in the air and making it spin.

“This is the best day ever,” Madeline managed over her laughter, unfortunately cut short by the sight of Professor McGonagall rushing over hastily.

“Professor Moody!” the woman shouted, “What are you doing?”

“Teaching,” replied Moody simply, still bouncing the ferret in the air.

McGonagall looked at Moody in disbelief, “Moody, is that a student?!”

“Technically, it’s a ferret,” Moody corrected her, Madeline bursting into another fit of laughter. By now, even the Hufflepuff students had gathered round, Cedric standing in front of them all with a grin on his face.

“Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall shrilly. Moody huffed and dropped the ferret to the floor, Crabbe and Goyle scampering over to try and grab him, "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?”

“He might’ve mentioned it, yes,” Moody replied as McGonagall pointed her wand at the ferret. Almost instantly, the ferret turned back to Malfoy, who looked around the group with wild eyes and tousled hair. The sight of it almost sent Madeline back into hysterics once again. 

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!”

"I'll do that, then," Moody huffed.

Malfoy looked at Moody with a sour expression on his face, adjusting his robes as he stepped back, “My father will hear about this!”

"Oh yeah?” Moody snapped as Malfoy hastily turned, running away with his goons in tow, “I could tell you stories about your father that would make your greasy hair curl!”

“Moody; my office!” McGonagall shouted, turning to the rest of the students surrounding them, “What are you waiting for? Away!”

Immediately, the small crowd started dispersing. Madeline wiped the tears from her eyes, turning to her friends gleefully, “I love this school, have I mentioned that?”

“Amazing,” Daphne agreed, “Truly, truly amazing.”

* * *

Madeline caught onto what was happening to Harry rather quickly.

It was no secret that the Gryffindors could have a flare for the dramatics (and not in a good way like the Slytherins did). They were self-important idiots who liked to see themselves as the heroes in any and all scenarios. Sure, some of them were alright, but Madeline was no fool in thinking they didn’t all act the same behind closed doors.

Madeline spotted Harry, on numerous occasions, walking the halls of Hogwarts on his own, his two best friends nowhere to be seen. She’d heard from Daphne and Theo about an incident before Potions - she’d woken up late, you see - where Malfoy and Potter were at each others necks again. It ended with Goyle with boils on his face and Hermione with beaver-like front teeth. Although the story sounded hilarious, she can’t imagine it helped with Harry’s reputation very much. 

It was a Thursday when Madeline decided she’d had enough. 

She’d been lounging in the Slytherin commons, bored out of her mind. Daphne had been sent to the Hospital Wing after Snape had attempted to poison her, testing her antidote she'd brewed the day before. It had worked against the poison, but she’d forgotten that she was _very_ allergic to the type of seaweed she’d used. Theodore had gone with her, much to Madeline's dismay, Snape refusing to send three students out of his classroom.

Leaving Madeline here; bored and hungry. Dinner wouldn’t be for at least another two hours, and the only other people in the common room were a bunch of first years and Pansy Parkinsons Slytherin Gang, who she didn't exactly want to hang out with. Madeline groaned, kicking her feet up onto the sofa with her. 

She looked around aimlessly for something, _anything_ to entertain her. Her eyes eventually landed on the newest edition of _The Daily Prophet_ , the same one Pansy and her gang had been laughing around just that morning. With a skeptical sigh, Madeline picked the newspaper up. 

_‘The Triwizard Tournament: Meet your Champions!’_

Madeline scoffed at the article, written by a Rita Skeeter. Not only was the entire thing basically just about Harry, but some of the quotes were downright _ridiculous._

_‘I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now. Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it… I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me…’_

_…Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school._

“Please,” Madeline scoffed, “Who’d even believe this garbage?”

_It seems that Potter has no fears about the upcoming Tournament; good on him! A rebel, a heartthrob, and a rulebreaker-_

“That’s it,” Madeline announced to no one in particular, the newspaper wrinkling in her hand. No one paid her much notice as she stormed out of the common room.

* * *

It took Madeline far longer than she would ever admit to find the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. 

The Fat Lady looked at her skeptically, taking in her green uniform, dishevelled hair, and crumbled newspaper. She held her nose up high, “Wrong painting.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m right,” Madeline huffed, combing through her hair with her fingers in an effort to look presentable, “Look, I just need to talk to Potter. Can’t you let me in?”

“Absolutely not,” the Fat Lady sniffed, “Not without the password.”

Madeline rolled her eyes, “I’m clearly not a Gryffindor so how the hell am I meant to know the password?”

“Check your tone young lady!” the Fat Lady exclaimed indignantly.

Madeline sighed. How had her day turned into arguing with a painting?  “Alright, fine,” Madeline continued, “Can’t you at least tell him I'm here? I’m sure you’re well aware of the fact that he doesn’t have a lot of friends right now.”

“And why on _earth_ would Harry Potter be friends with a Slytherin?” 

“Because he doesn’t really have any other options,” Madeline shrugged, “So, can you call him, or do you want me to camp out here all night? I assure you I have nothing better to do.”

The Fat Lady rolled her eyes, disappearing from the frame. Madeline leant against the railing of the stairs awkwardly, stiffly nodding at anyone who gave her a strange glance. A couple of Ravenclaws gossiped, rather loudly, about her as they walked past. It was only a few minutes later when the frame swung open, revealing a flustered-looking, confused Harry Potter.

“Madeline?” he asked softly as she stepped through the frame, “What are you doing here?”

“Figured you might want someone to shred the Daily Prophet with, starting with this copy,” Madeline replied, holding up her wrinkled newspaper, “Come along now.”

Madeline stepped into the Gryffindor Common Room casually, as if she was meant to be here. The room itself was cosy and round, with dark red and golden wallpaper and a small fireplace. Red couches and armchairs littered the entire room, as well as numerous golden-framed paintings. Some moved, some didn’t. Two sets of staircases lead up to the dormitories, Madeline assumed. 

Much like Slytherin with snakes, you could find little lion emblems everywhere in the room. The carpet was a ghastly vintage floral, but if you watched closely enough, tiny little lions would jump from stem to stem of the florals. And of course, it was messy; scarves thrown everywhere, deflated golden pillows, mismatched chess sets… Exactly what the Slytherin girl had predicted.

“What the hell is she doing in here Potter?!”

Madeline rolled her eyes at Seamus Finnigan, who took up the large red sofa in front of the fireplace with Ron and Dean, “Being a much better friend than any of you lot are. Come on, Harry.”

Madeline grabbed Harry’s shoulder, dragging him to the other side of the room, as far away from the other Gryffindors as possible. The three boys turned away from them, muttering to themselves. 

“Whole lot of friends those three are," Madeline scoffed as the two sat down, “Have you read this rubbish?” 

“Yeah,” Harry huffed, “Did you read the part about how my ‘ _eyes glisten with the ghost of my past’?”_

“Yes, hilarious,” Madeline replied shortly, “You seriously must’ve pissed this woman off to write you like-“

“Like a right selfish prick? Yeah,” Harry muttered, eyeing the redheaded boy on the other side of the room, “Quite a few of those around these days.”

“Focus, Potter,” Madeline continued, “Have you even got anyone to help you with these tasks?”

“Hermione has been trying, but she basically just tells me to study,” Harry admitted, “She’s like a talking book, I swear.”

“Well, you’re in luck Harry Potter,” Madeline leant back proudly, crossing her arms, “Because you now have the very best Slytherin has to offer on your side.”

“Who; Malfoy?”

She kicked his foot sharply, “No, me you idiot. There is no way I’m letting you go into this thing alone. If you died it’d be on my conscience for life.”

“Glad to know where your priorities lie.”

“Now first thing is first; we need to figure out the first task,” Madeline continued, “Moody likes you, right? He’ll probably know something.”

“Professors aren’t allowed to help,” Harry pointed out, “Maybe I can just run into this thing head-first and hope for the best. I mean, that’s a good a plan as any.”

“Okay, I get it, you’re not in the plotting mood,” she sighed, “I’ll ask around, see what I can find out.”

Harry paused, “Thank you for this,” he smiled earnestly, “Really. Thank you.”

“Careful; Hermione might get jealous.”

Harry nudged her playfully, laughing. They were fairly close now, both leaning in as they continued their hushed conversation. Obviously, this didn’t go unnoticed by the other three boys.

“Looks like Potter has a new best friend,” Dean commented, much to Ron’s displeasure.

Ron glared at the dark-haired girl. Something didn’t sit right with him about her, and he was going to figure out what it was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear Ron won't be a villain in this story but just roll with it for now


	9. 8: Friends

**_8: Friends_ **

_Grey eyes._

_That's the first thing she saw. Deep, light grey eyes staring at her with the curiosity of a small child. In fact, it_ was _a small child. A tiny baby, no more than a year old, coddled up in it's fancy wooden cot. Plush green and blue blankets surrounded the child, who looked up at her with a sweet smile. The baby made grabbing hands at the girl above her, but Madeline made no move to pick the baby up._

_It was as if her body wasn't her own. She felt every movement she made, but she had no control over it. Suddenly, it was as if the room had grown dark, the smile wiped off the baby's face. It felt like there was a fog growing around her, suffocating her._

_The last thing she saw was a flash of green reflecting from the baby's eyes, followed by a scream._

* * *

Madeline woke up with a strangled gasp, sitting up straight in her bed. Sweat dripped from her forehead, her chest heaving. The rest of the girls in her dorm were still asleep, and rightly so. Through the thick window in their dorm, Madeline could tell the sun had yet to rise; the water of the lake retaining its dark muddy colour.

 _A nightmare,_ she realised bitterly.

Knowing she wasn't about to fall back to sleep, Madeline began getting ready for the day. She pulled on a green sweater and black straight-legged jeans, combing her hair with a charm as she brushed her teeth with no haste. She knew it was a Sunday, the first task looming ahead with only days to spare, leaving every student in Hogwarts tense with anticipation.

She'd been in Hogwarts for over a month now, the last week or so filled by her attempting to catch up with Herbology. Professor Sprout insisted that she was behind with her classes due to her homeschooling, and had set her up with a _multitude_ of different homework tasks and make-up essays. The majority of her time had been dedicated to catching up, proving she was as bright a witch as any.

Not to mention, Harry would have been completely alone in his preparation for the oncoming tournament had it not been for Madeline's presence. She kept him on track with his own homework, which was a skill Hermione had yet to master herself, and made sure no one bothered him when she was around. Sure, she got _plenty_ of comments from Pansy and her friends, but it seemed that after Malfoy got transformed into a ferret, no one from Slytherin was going to give Harry much grief.

The _'Potter Stinks!'_ badges were still in circulation, which Madeline happily charmed to show a cartoon white ferret instead, wearing a Slytherin Quidditch jumper and hopping around the badge. She'd even spoken to Cedric to try and get his friends to stop wearing them, which Cedric promised he'd try (and fail) to do.

Madeline walked through the Slytherin common room tiredly, her feet still in cosy green slippers and socks. She yawned as she sunk into the plush leather couch in front of the fireplace, which sprouted flames as soon as she'd sat down.

There were very few paintings hung in the Slytherin dungeon. Some were moving, just waking up at the sound of the fire lighting. Others were simple photographs of the old students that had lived in the same commons. Her and Theo had tried (and failed) to find a photograph of Snape just a few nights prior, each holding a candle up to each painting to see through the darkness better.

Her friendships so far in Hogwarts were… Varied, she'd say. She'd written to her mother about it all a few days before.

Theo and Daphne were easily some of the closest friends she'd ever had. Sure, she didn't exactly reveal much (or anything) about her life in France and her reason to transfer, but the trio just… Worked. Theo was serious and studious, while Daphne was dramatic and loud. Madeline was just Madeline, with a sharp tongue and social skills that could only be born from years of attending social events.

Cedric had become a close friend, too. He knew her stance on blood purity, something she hadn't even brought up to Daphne and Theo yet, in fear that they'd disagree. He was witty enough to keep up with her, but far kinder than she was. Then there was Harry, who's name alone would most definitely send her grandma packing. He needed a friend, and she didn't have much else to do. There were a few more people that Madeline would consider acquaintances, such as Fred, Neville and Tracy, but overall she was quite happy with her Slytherin trio, thank you very much.

Her mother had yet to reply, of course. She was busy with her new job in Beauxbatons, as well as the owls taking longer than she'd like to deliver the notes. Although December was still a short while away, Madeline couldn't wait to see her mother again. The prospect of the Christmas break seemed more inviting as the days went on.

She was startled out of her pondering when an annoyingly familiar voice spoke from behind her.

"What the hell are you doing up?"

Madeline looked over her shoulder and groaned, seeing none other than Draco Malfoy standing by the entrance to the boys dormitories.

"Actually Malfoy, I was hoping to catch you crawling back into the hell-hole you came from."

"Real witty," Malfoy rolled his eyes, sitting on the couch opposite Madeline in silence.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows at the boy, "What are you doing?"

"Goyle's snoring woke me up," Draco shrugged, "Oh, and I'm waiting for my hell-hole."

Madeline snorted, turning her face away from his as she stared into the fire, "You'd be funny if you weren't such an ass."

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome," Madeline smirked, the two falling into another long stretch of silence.

"Why are you friends with Potter?"

Madeline turned to look at the boy in confusion, "Pardon?"

Draco shrugged, leaning back, "It's not doing you any favours with the rest of the house."

"Because, unlike you guys, I haven't been brainwashed into thinking house rivalries last forever," Madeline answered, "He's really not that bad, and he kind of needs someone on his side with this whole tournament thing."

Draco scoffed, "The one he entered himself in?"

"Oh come on, be logical," Madeline snapped, "The boy has survived death one too many times for him to chance it again with something like this. _He didn't put his name in the Goblet."_

Draco paused for a few moments, staring at the girl. Madeline eventually turned away, looking back into the fire. It was a while before Draco spoke again.

"So someone really wants him dead, is that what you're saying?"

"I'm _saying_ that someone thought it would be real funny to put him in a _very public, famous_ Wizarding tournament, where he will most certainly face unmeasurable danger," Madeline answered, "And I'm not going to sit around and let him do it alone."

They sat in silence once more. Madeline couldn't tell you how long it had been before the sound of her housemates waking up echoed into the common room. It was only when a set of footsteps made their way down the stone staircase and into the common room did Draco say one final thing;

"You should be careful around those Gryffindors," Draco revealed quietly as he stood up, straightening out his shirt as Crabbe and Goyle made their way into the common room, "They're not the angels you think they are."

And with that, Draco left the common room, his goons trailing behind him.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows. What the hell did that mean?

* * *

Barely an hour later, Madeline found herself walking to the Great Hall for breakfast with Theo and Daphne. Draco's words had stuck with her, much to her displeasure.

House rivalries were normal in Hogwarts, that much was obvious. But from her perspective, it seemed that Slytherin remained the odd ones out. She'd often spotted the other houses intermingling, but very rarely would she see her own house socialising with the other houses. She knew Daphne and Theo both had friends in Ravenclaw, and even Tracy Davis got along with Lavender Brown in Gryffindor surprisingly well. But for the most part, it seemed that Slytherin were kept away from the rest of the school, and Madeline suspected it wasn't by their own design.

And she was going to change that.

So, upon entering the Great Hall, Madeline left her two friends and happily made her way over to the Gryffindor table. Without a word, she sat herself down next to Neville Longbottom, much to his horror.

"B-Bisset?!" Neville asked in confusion as she leant over his plate to grab a steaming cup of coffee. The rest of the house had their eyes fixated on her, "Why are you here?!"

"Can't a dear friend sit with you on this lovely Sunday evening?" Madeline asked, taking a sip of the coffee. Her eyes widened like saucers, "Dear god, why is your coffee so good?"

"What are you doing?"

"No, seriously. I don't know why, but your coffee is so much richer than the one we get on our table."

"Longbottom meant the sudden desire to sit with Gryffindors," Fred Weasley explained amusedly as he sat himself next to the girl, his brother taking the seat opposite him, "Although, I'm not complaining."

"See Neville? We're all friends here," Madeline smiled cheerily, grabbing a slice of buttered toast from the tall pile on her left, "So, how are we all?"

"Never better," Fred replied cheekily, "Right Georgie?"

"Right Freddie!"

Madeline rolled her eyes fondly at the pair. It was common knowledge that the two were inseparable; the comedic relief of Hogwarts, if you may. Even Peeves had competition against the two.

Before she could continue the conversation, however, the sight of Harry Potter rushing into the hall frantically was enough to rattle her out of breakfast. She stood up instantly.

"Sorry guys, duty calls," Madeline winked, taking her mug with her. She missed George giving his brother a pointed look, Fred kicking his shin lightly under the table.

Madeline rushed over to the boy before he could approach the Gryffindor table, grabbing his arm and taking him to one side. "What's wrong?!"

"Dragons," Harry hissed, "The first task; it's dragons!"

"Holy shit," Madeline breathed, glaring as a group of first-years walked past, all sporting matching _'Potter Sucks!'_ badges, "You're screwed. How'd you find out?"

"Hagrid took me to them last night," Harry explained, "I've already told Hermione. We're going to try finding something in the library to help me."

"Good idea. You're only allowed your wand, right?"

Harry nodded, "But it won't do me much good anyway. Those things take more than one wizard to take down."

"Then you better get hell of a lot stronger overnight," Madeline replied, patting his arm, "Good luck buddy. I'll come up with you guys, if you want."

"Thanks," Harry smiled, "It would help a lot; three heads instead of two."

"Of course," Madeline shrugged, "But, can you tell Cedric about the dragons? It would mean a lot, and would probably earn you some sympathy points with the Badgers."

"Sure," Harry promised, eyes darting behind Madeline, "And hey, it looks like you've made some friends, too."

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, turning and following Harry's eye line. She felt her heart jump into her throat at the boy coming towards her, almost as if someone had poured a bucket of ice cold water on her.

"Madeline Bisset," Adam Louis grinned, a malicious glint in his eyes, "What a… _Surprise,_ to see you _here_ of all places."

Madeline couldn't form words as the Beauxbatons boy stood in front of her. He'd been at the last ball her grandma had thrown. In fact, she was pretty sure the boy had been one of the worst dancers at the event, and didn't seem very happy when she'd insulted him. Not to mention, his family knew the Bissets _extremely_ well. With everything going on, she'd completely forgotten that he was one of the Beauxbaton visitors.

"I assume your mother sent you here after she realised no one in France would _dare_ be betrothed to you," Adam smiled politely, gesturing to Harry, "But it seems I'm mistaken. Is this your boyfriend?"

"No," Madeline replied sharply, softening a little, "Lovely to see you, Adam, but I've got some studying that really needs to be-"

"As always," Adam sighed dramatically, "The Bisset women always have been entitled."

Madeline felt her cheeks go red, both from rage and embarrassment, "Excuse me?"

"You should know," Adam continued, addressing Harry, "Madeline here has quite a reputation in France, and so does her family."

"Enough, Adam," Madeline hissed.

"I wouldn't expect any less from a family built off of pure-blood prejudice," Adam continued, unscathed, "Did she mention that her mother used to be a-"

"Adam!"

The sharp snap of his name was enough to stop the boy, but it hadn't come from Madeline. Turning around, the boy found himself face-to-face with his school champion, Fleur Delacour. He felt his blood run cold.

"Are you done insulting my _friend?"_ Fleur made sure to stress the final word, hands on her hips and a sharp look on her face. Adam nodded stiffly, giving Madeline and Harry one final nod before returning to his Beauxbatons friends at the Ravenclaw table.

"What an ass," Fleur muttered uncharacteristically, turning to Madeline, "Would you like to sit with me for breakfast?"

Madeline swallowed, her eyes still trained on the retreating form of Adam. She shook her head stiffly, "No thank you. I'm heading to the library with Harry-"

"Actually, I think it might be best for me and Hermione to do this alone," Harry suddenly announced, retreating speedily, "But I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Sure," Madeline answered dejectedly, her friend already halfway out the door.

She wasn't an idiot, she knew what Adam had alluded to. He wanted everyone to think she was just like Malfoy, when in reality, Adam himself was probably far more in favour of the old values than she ever could be. Her family didn't have the best values at heart, but her mother had long since left that life behind her.

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, she began to resent her family name.

"Come with me," Fleur asked softly, taking her arm, "Let's eat something."

* * *

Fleur had grabbed a plate stacked high with toast and little jam pots, making sure to grab every flavour Hogwarts had to offer. She took Madeline to the outside courtyard, seating themselves on a bench as they wrapped up warm in their robes, the winter chill truly setting in.

They sat with their legs crossed facing each other on either end of the bench, tearing chunks of toast apart and dunking them in the different jams. Although it may not seem like the most glamorous breakfast, it was exactly what they'd done summer after summer when they were younger.

Fleur and Madeline had been friends for a very long time. They would spend many summer days together, their mothers and grandmothers idly strolling the French fields while they played in the gardens. Of course, Fleur had always been the one to hold herself taller, to be the perfect daughter. Madeline followed suit, but between the two, they'd revealed their dreams of something more.

Neither of them wanted to simply be a trophy wife. Fleur longed for the thrill of true love, free from classist pressure or blood purity. Madeline longed for adventure, to break free of whatever mould her grandma tried to force her into. A friendship like theirs was rare to come across.

" _So_ ," Fleur began, the two keeping their conversation in French as to prevent the prying ears of Hogwarts students, _"Why did you let yourself get riled up by Adam Louis out of all people?"_

Madeline sighed, biting into her piece of toast, _"No one knows my family here. It's like a fresh start, you know? And then he waltzes in and tries to embarrass me in front of Potter."_

_"_ _What did you do to him?"_

_"_ _Insulted his ballroom dancing skills."_

Fleur barely contained her laugh, _"Whatever you said, you most definitely have a point; he's dreadful."_

 _"_ _The thing is, he also had a point."_ Madeline sighed, _"You've met my family Fleur. Hell, we both know what our grandmothers say when they think we're not listening."_

Fleur stiffened, but nodded slightly.

 _"_ _Let me ask you this,"_ Fleur began softly, _"If… If You-Know-Who came back, and your family didn't matter, which side of the war would you be on?"_

 _"_ _The side that is willing to fight him,"_ Madeline replied decisively, _"But we both know it wouldn't be up to me."_

 _"_ _Maybe your mother sent you here so you can make your own choices,"_ Fleur pointed out, lowering her voice, _"Look; there are rumours going around in France, many more than there are here. People are getting ready for_ something, _and if your mother sent you here, I'm willing to bet she knows about them too."_

_"_ _What are you getting at?"_

_"_ _What did your mother say when she told you about Hogwarts?"_

Madeline paused, recalling the night of the ball, " _She said that we can't trust family to keep us safe."_

The two sat in silence. They both knew what it meant; there were dark times coming, and if Eloise Bisset was willing to send away the one person she loved most in this world, it must be serious, and it must be true. And soon, everyone would have to make a choice.

 _"_ _When the Sorting Hat was trying to sort me, he asked me if I wanted to be great or to be safe,"_ Madeline admitted, Fleur's eyes widening, _"I chose to be great."_

Fleur smiled at her friend, shaking her head fondly, _"Of course you did. So, be great, and everyone else be damned. And if Hogwarts doesn't work out, I'm sure there would be a place for you in Beauxbatons."_

Madeline smiled at her old friend. Really, it was a pity they hadn't seen each other very often in the last year. _"Thank you Fleur, really."_

 _"_ _Let's just enjoy the time we have while we have it, shall we?"_ Fleur smiled, pausing, _"So, that Slytherin boy you're always around…"_

 _"_ _Who? Theodore?"_ Madeline asked, gaping at Fleur's coy expression, _"You fancy him!"_

 _"_ _He's cute,"_ Fleur shrugged, _"And as I said, we may as well enjoy the time we have-"_

 _"_ _Gross, Delacour,"_ Madeline laughed, throwing the crust of her toast to the girl.

The two friends laughed together, and for a few moments, all their troubles were lost. It was only when Fleur bid her goodbye with the excuse of Tournament training did Madeline remember what Harry had told her.

" _It's dragons,"_ Madeline had whispered in her ear as they hugged, " _The first task is dragons."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I feel like I've built Madeline's character quite a bit, perhaps it's time to get to the real action?
> 
> Please, as always, leave comments/reviews on this story with any feedback at all! Thank you!


	10. 9: The First Task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A *lot* happens in this chapter. Teehee.

**CHAPTER 9: The First Task**

Tuesday. 

The day of the first task.

Of course, the Slytherin Dungeons were positively _buzzing_ with excitement. Madeline had spotted a group of second years makeshift some signs to hold up, _‘Potter Stinks!’_ still being the most popular one. In fact, all the signs pretty much berated Harry and favoured no other champion (although she could’ve sworn she saw Crabbe and Goyle with matching Krum signs). 

The day passed in a blur. Daphne was particularly chirpy as they sat for lunch, their classes ending mid-day in favour of the Tournament. Even Malfoy was in a good mood, although it was most definitely to do with the fact that Harry was about to risk his life publicly. 

“Isn’t this exciting?!” Daphne exclaimed, biting into her sandwich, “The day is finally here!”

“I’m not sure exciting is the right word for it,” Theo pointed out, “I swear, Cedric looked like he was about to cry this morning.”

Madeline huffed, “Do you guys not think this whole thing is barbaric?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s half the fun,” Daphne shrugged, “I just hope Krum doesn't get hurt…”

Madeline thought about Fleur, Cedric and Harry. To be honest, the only one Madeline didn’t really care about was Krum. She knew Fleur had it in the bag; she was one of the most talented witches she knew. Cedric would manage, he seemed like the resilient type. But Harry… She was the most worried about him; scrawny, thin, and thrown into this without a choice. 

Speaking of…

“Merlin, he looks terrified,” Theo pointed out as Harry walked into the hall with Hermione, “Shouldn’t he be with the other champions?”

Madeline watched the boy worriedly, noticing how pretty much every single person in the Great Hall looked at him with disdain. He truly didn’t have anyone on his side apart from Hermione and herself, and she was willing to bet that if he _did_ come out victorious, the Gryffindors would jump back onto the bandwagon of ‘ _All Hail the Chosen One_ ’ instantly. Pathetic.

McGonagall quickly spotted Harry and rushed over, whispering something to him quietly. He nodded, allowing himself to be taken out of the Great Hall, most likely to prepare for his task.

“She’s probably making sure he doesn’t run away,” Pansy Parkinson remarked from her seat next to Draco. The table fell into a loud cackle of laughter. 

Madeline frowned. If no one else was going to cheer him on, she would. Sure, they hadn't spoken since the Adam incident, and he more than likely thought she was some sort of Death Eater, but that didn't matter. She stood up.

“Good luck Harry!” Madeline shouted from the Slytherin table. Harry turned in surprise, his eyes landing on the Slytherin girl gratefully. He shot her a small but hopeful smile, assuring her that he was okay.  He disappeared behind the doors, McGonagall with her hand on his shoulder.

“Good luck for what, Bisset?” Pansy questioned, staring at her as she sat down, “His untimely death?”

“I’ll have you know, Parkinson, that some of us aren’t foul enough to wish death on a fellow student,” Madeline sniffed, “I’m sure Professor Moody would love to hear all about how much you _hate_ his favourite student.”

Pansy huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back behind Draco dramatically. Madeline rolled her eyes, turning to her friends, "Shall we go to the arena?"

* * *

The entire population of Hogwarts - and their visitors - gathered around the large arena. Tension was palpable in the air, cleverly masked with a cloak of excitement. 

Madeline didn’t dare look into the arena too much. She already felt sick, the prospect of her friends having to battle it out with _dragons_. She sat herself on the far left of the stands, with Daphne sat between her and Theo. Two rows in front of her, she could see Hermione worriedly clutching the scarf around her neck. On her left, Neville, who was hastily scribbling on some cardboard. Ron was on her other side, with Dean and Seamus next to him. 

There was a tent on the far side of the enclosure, clearly where the Champions were being held. Just besides it, the entrance to another tent was blocked off by a large metal gate. Madeline had a feeling that was where the dragons would be entering from.

She’d done her own research on dragons, of course. Many wouldn’t be too hard to fight if you knew the right spells, which she hoped her friends did, but the tales others bore sent chills down her spine. She hadn’t told Daphne and Theo what was in store, probably because it would make it so much more real. 

“Bloody hell it’s getting cold,” Daphne huffed as she rubbed the palms of her hands together.

“Something tells me it’s about to get a lot hotter here,” Theo retorted cleverly. 

Mr. Bagman was the one to announce the beginning of the Tournament. He stood from his seat with the other judges, bringing his wand to his neck to amplify his voice.

“Hello everybody!” Mr. Bagman began, “And what an exciting day this is! Welcome to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!”

Everyone began clapping and hollering, dying down once Mr. Bagman had raised his hand.

“Today’s task is very special, and created to test our Champions _daring,”_ Mr. Bagman continued dramatically _,_ “Each of our Champions has been assigned a dragon, which they will have to battle, and steal a golden egg from!”

Murmurs immediately began in the audience. Some people seemed shocked, others far too excited to witness the Boy Who Lived face certain death.

“So, without further ado, let us begin!” Mr Bagman exclaimed loudly, flashes of red sparks shooting into the sky, symbolising the beginning of the Tournament, “First we have one of our Hogwarts champions, Cedric Diggory! He will be facing the Swedish Short-Snout!”

Immediately, the Hufflepuffs began shouting and screaming, even Madeline joining in and clapping her hands. However, the audience fell into an instant silence as the dragon gate lifted. A large silvery-blue dragon made its way into the arena, the muzzle around its large mouth disappearing once the gate had closed behind it. It paid no attention to the audience, and instead began circling itself around the eggs on the side of the arena.

And then Cedric came out.

The Hufflepuffs cheered once more, but Madeline found herself digging her nails into her robes in anxiety. Cedric looked positively terrified, and she bet he wasn’t the only one. 

He stared at the large dragon in fear, clutching his wand tightly in his hand. The dragon had yet to spot him, and he noticed this. He hastily pointed his wand at a rock, casting a transfiguration charm. The rock began to morph, turning into-

“A dog,” Madeline breathed, “Seriously. A dog. That’s his best plan?!”

“I thought you were friends with Diggory,” Theo pointed out.

“Yes, and I can still appreciate when his plans are ridiculous,” Madeline huffed, eyes darting back to the arena. Her eyes widened, grabbing Daphne’s shoulder gleefully, “Look! It’s working!”

Much to everyone's surprise, Cedric had managed to distract the dragon long enough to sprint to the other side of the enclosure, where the eggs were kept. He was almost there, just a few more meters to go, when suddenly, the dragon turned back to the boy in yellow.

“WATCH OUT!”

Cedric dove to the ground just in time as a blast of blue fire shot out of the dragon's nostrils. It was angry, and he had no time to lose. He made another dash for the egg, jumping over boulders and rocks. No one dared to move as they gripped onto their seats in agitation, eyes fixated on the boy.

“Ooh, narrow miss there,” Mr Bagman commentated, echoing throughout the audience, “He’s taking risks, this one!” 

After one final bold jump, he grabbed the golden egg just as the dragon shot one final burst of blue flames at him.

All at once, every Hogwarts student began cheering. The dragon’s muzzle reappeared, trumpets sounding in celebration. Madeline shot out of her seat, dragging her friends up with her as they clapped furiously for the boy. 

Cedric got up from the ground, one arm clutching the egg to his side, while the other seemed to be badly burnt from the dragon. It didn’t look like anything serious, thankfully, but it would definitely deduct him points for the task. He barely even acknowledged the audience as he was escorted out to the infirmary tent. 

“Very good indeed!” Mr Bagman praised as the applause died down, “A very smart young boy. And now the marks from the judges!”

Madeline didn’t see the marks. She was far more preoccupied as she watched the first dragon being escorted out of the arena by a short and stocky red-haired man, and surprisingly, Daphne had also noticed him.

“That’s Charlie Weasley,” Daphne stated in confusion, nudging Theo, “Wasn’t he at your parents vow renewal, like, four years ago?”

Theo furrowed his eyes at the man, then nodded, “Yeah. He studied dragons in Romania with my cousin. He was her date for the ceremony. I'm surprised you remember him.”

Daphne shrugged, "He took the last of the butterbeer."

Madeline’s eyes were fixated on the back of Ron’s head, unmoving, “Do you reckon the Weasley’s knew about the first task then?”

“We’ll have to see how Potter does,” Daphne shrugged, “Oh look, Fleur Delacour is next.”

Madeline’s eyes snapped to the arena, catching Fleur’s hesitant steps forwards into the ring. A large dragon, the Common Welsh Green, stood with it’s back to her, large talons digging into the ground in front of the eggs. The Beauxbatons students clapped politely as Fleur fully entered the arena, Madeline cheering loudly above the Hogwarts students.

Fleur pursed her lips, drawing her wand. The dragon had yet to see her. With quiet grace, she began waving her wand gently towards the dragon, little flickers of blue and gold lights floating in the air from the tip of her wand. No one could really tell what she was doing. That is, until the dragon slowly began falling asleep.

"Oh I'm not sure that was wise!” Mr Bagman narrated, but Madeline didn’t listen. She was on the edge of her seat as she watched Fleur, the wand movements not ceasing. It was many minutes later before Fleur was confident the dragon wouldn’t wake up. The Beauxbaton students began clapping politely once more as Fleur made her way across the arena.

She elegantly jumped over the many rocks and boulders, holding her cape up when necessary. She was slower than Cedric, but definitely more cautious and composed. Everyone assumed she’d leave the arena unscathed, especially as she neared the egg. That is, until the Welsh Green snored, a sharp yet small blast of fire coming out of its nose. 

Everyone gasped, a few even covering their eyes as Fleur’s skirt was set on fire. Fleur jumped, a yelp coming out of her mouth. But she very quickly put the fire out with a few sharp blasts of water from her wand, wasting no more time and grabbing the egg before the dragon could do any more damage.

Cheers erupted in the stalls as the dragon was carted off. Madeline clapped the loudest out of all the Hogwarts students, watching as Fleur was taken off the arena as well.

“And next,” Mr Bagman announced, “We have Viktor Krum, facing the Chinese Fireball!”

“Yikes,” Theo muttered, glaring as Daphne stood with the other Slytherin girls, clapping especially loudly.

Madeline didn’t care too much for Krum. She sat back in her seat, leaning behind Daphne to look at Theo, “Reckon he’ll be any good?”

“I doubt it,” Theo muttered grumpily, looking around the stalls, “Everyone seems enraptured by him, for whatever reason. 

“It’s _because_ he’s _hot_ ,” Daphne sighed as she sat back down, breaking the conversation, “Look; it’s starting.”

Madeline watched as Krum stepped into the arena confidently, the Chinese Fireball watching the boy menacingly. It dug its talons into the floor, as if preparing to attack. Krum, as predictable as always, was rather fast and sharp in his attack. He pulled his wand out sharply, pointing it at the dragon and sending a rather strong attack to it’s eye.

“Let’s go, Krum!” Daphne cheered as he stunned the dragon, both Theo and Madeline rolling their eyes at their friend.

The dragon was stunned instantly. It shrieked in pain, most of the audience covering their ears to muffle the loud sound. It began moving wildly across the floor, and unfortunately, trampled on it’s own eggs. The crowd held its breath as Krum darted across the arena, grabbing the egg.

“That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!” Mr Bagman announced.

Applause broke throughout the audience loudly. Cheers and shrieks came from all stalls. Even the Beauxbaton students looked mildly impressed. Krum, the showman that he was, held the egg up proudly to the audience. 

“He’s the fastest one yet!” one of the Slytherin boys yelled from behind Madeline.

“I bet he’s got it in the bag,” another replied, “Potter doesn’t stand a chance.”

“So,” Madeline began, turning to Daphne, “Your boyfriend might win this thing.”

To her surprise, Daphne shrugged nonchalantly. 

“His plan was stupid,” she stated simply, “And I’m not attracted to stupid.”

Her words held such finality that Madeline knew better than to press. She looked at Theo curiously, who simply smirked. The Chinese Fireball was taken out of the arena once Krum had exited, now significantly calmer than it had been just moments before.

And then, Madeline saw it. 

The next dragon was The Hungarian Horntail. And Harry would have to battle it.

“Bloody hell,” Theo breathed, the dragon thrashing in it’s muzzle.

“It has _spikes,”_ Daphne gasped, “Potter is a goner!”

Madeline didn’t comment. Instead, she watched with wide eyes as Harry stepped into the arena, the quietest of applause echoing in the stands. She barely registered Mr Bagman speaking as Harry immediately raised his wand in the air, uttering an incantation no one else could hear.

“What the hell is he doing?!” Madeline exclaimed, watching Harry through the shimmer of the transparent barrier.

Hermione had heard her, turning around from her place in the rows in front of her. The two girls locked eyes, and with a simple nod from Hermione, Madeline was sure Harry had a plan. 

And then she saw it.

His Firebolt, shooting through the air and breaking through the almost-clear barrier easily. The crowd went wild as Harry mounted his broom, kicking off the ground without a second thought.

“YES!” shrieked a Gryffindor first-year, jumping and clapping happily.

Harry soared high in the air, Madeline holding her breath as the Horntail watched the boy. The eggs were between its front legs. Harry had to act fast if he had any hopes of getting out of this alive.

The dragon followed Harry’s movements with its head, and as soon as it got the chance, shot a deadly blast of fire at the boy. The crowd jumped and gasped, Madeline even getting to her feet, but thankfully Harry was more than a fair flyer. He dove out of the flames reach easily, swerving the opposite way.

"Great Scott, he can fly!" yelled Bagman as the crowd shrieked.

Harry dove higher and higher into the air, almost circling the arena, and that’s when Madeline realised what he was doing.

“He’s making the dragon dizzy,” Madeline revealed to her friends, a proud smile on her face.

Harry rose higher and higher into the air, forcing the dragon’s neck to follow him. It was only when the dragon opened its wings and began lifting off the ground did Harry make his play.

As soon as the dragon was above the ground he immediately dove down to the floor, narrowly missing yet another jet of fire. Her tail grazed him, a shallow gash now on his shoulder. Madeline held her breath as Harry seemed to be diving head-first into the ground.

“He’s going to off himself!” Daphne gasped.

But Harry swerved, and with a spurt of speed akin to none the audience had ever seen, Harry grabbed the egg and shot straight back up into the air, flying over the stands as the crowd roared.

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

Madeline was the first Slytherin to start cheering wildly, the Gryffindors just about matching her. Harry flew around for just a few more moments as the dragon was tamed back into its enclosure. Madeline clapped furiously, a bright smile on her face as she watched Harry land on the side of the arena, McGonagall, Hagrid and Moody there to greet him.

Madeline caught Hermione and Ron getting up hastily, moving out of their bench to get ready to go see him. She caught Hermione’s eye once again, only this time Hermione was the one to know without a doubt that Madeline would be coming, too.

“I’m going to go see them,” Madeline told her friends, pulling her Slytherin scarf tightly around her neck, “I’ll see you later.”

“Give Krum my love,” Theo teased, earning a nudge from Daphne.

* * *

Madeline said nothing as she followed Ron and Hermione to the tent. Ron especially made sure to keep his eyes trained onto the floor, avoiding her gaze at all costs. 

They darted through the opening of the first-aid tent unnoticed, and came face-to-face with-

"Harry, you were brilliant!" Hermione shrieked, giving him a tight but careful hug, ”You were amazing! You really were!"

“Clever,” Madeline complimented, earning a small smile from Harry. However, when he noticed the third party with the two girls, his smile dropped.

"Harry," Ron said, very seriously, "Whoever put your name in that goblet… I-I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

Madeline held her breath as the two boys stared at each other. Harry spoke coldly, "Caught on, have you? Took you long enough.”

Hermione stood between the two boys, looking at them nervously. Ron opened his mouth, ready to speak, but to everyone's surprise, Harry continued.

"It's okay," he said, "Forget it."

"No," Ron argued, "I shouldn't've-"

"Forget it.”

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back.

Madeline rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, Hermione laughing and grabbing the two boys around their necks, bringing them into a tight hug. Madeline took this as her cue to leave and find Cedric and Fleur, but before she could walk away, Harry stopped her.

“Madeline,” he said nervously, breaking away from his two friends, “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry, for the other day with the Beauxbatons guy.”

“Forget it,” Madeline echoed Harry’s own words, a tight-lipped smile on her face.

“It wasn’t right,” Harry shook his head, “Look; I’m sure the Gryffindors are going to celebrate after this. You’re welcome to come, if you’d like.”

Madeline thought about it. On one hand, she really wasn’t fond of a lot of the Gryffindors. But on the other hand, some of them didn’t seem to be too bad… Especially the ones in front of her. 

“Alright,” Madeline nodded, smiling, “But I should probably go find Fleur now.”

Harry nodded, giving Madeline’s shoulder a small squeeze before joining his friends again. Madeline watched as the Golden Trio stood by each other tightly, laughing and celebrating. It was heartwarming, really.

She turned around and walked further into the first-aid tent. Fleur hadn’t been injured, but surely they wanted to check for burns. Cedric was sat up in one of the beds, a thick orange paste on one side of his face, and probably on his arm as well, judging from the bandages peeking out of his sleeve. The minute he saw Madeline, he broke out in a grin.

“Told you Bisset, I’ve got this thing in the bag,” he greeted her playfully. Madeline just rolled her eyes, seating herself on the edge of his bed.

“How bad is it?” she asked, “Are you scarred for life? Does this mean the Diggory Charm has now ceased to exist? How will you break it to your fans?!”

“Alright, alright, cool it. I just battled a dragon,” Cedric laughed, shaking his head, “I’ll be fine by tomorrow, they say. How’d the others do?”

“Harry was the fastest, but they might take points off him for being injured,” Madeline informed him, “I didn’t really keep track of the scores. You see, I was too busy watching and making sure my friends didn’t die a horrible death at the hands of a _dragon_.”

“Awh, are we friends?” Cedric teased, Madeline slapping his leg at his ridiculousness. The two laughed, but were interrupted by Madam Pomfrey.

“Mister Diggory, the judges are about to announce the scores,” she informed him courtly, turning to Madeline, “Are you alright, dear?”

“Yes, I was just making sure this one didn’t get into too much trouble,” Madeline replied politely, “Come on, Diggory. Let’s see if you won.”

* * *

Harry and Krum had tied in first place, Cedric coming in second, and Fleur in last. The next task was to take place on February the twenty-fourth. 

Madeline had briefly caught Fleur on her way back to the Beauxbatons dorms, the two hugging tightly with the promise of breakfast in the coming week. Although Fleur wasn’t a Hogwarts champion, Madeline was set to help her as best as she could. 

She returned to the Slytherin Dungeons with Daphne and Theo, sitting around the fireplace and chatting animatedly about the Tournament. Some of the younger Slytherins had joined them, the common room alive with noise and warmth. It felt good, to be a family. 

At about five o’clock, a curious knock echoed on the entrance of the common room. Madeline furrowed her eyes as she saw Tracy Davis rushing across the room to where she was sat, a sour look on her face.

“It’s for you, Bisset,” Tracy informed her, “Honestly, I thought you would’ve had better taste.”

Madeline looked at her in confusion, standing up and making her way to the entrance. She pulled the sleeves of her green cardigan over her hands as she opened the door-

And was met with none other than Ron Weasley.

“Well, this is a surprise,” Madeline cooed, leaning against the edge of the door, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Harry invited you to his surprise party,” Ron shrugged, hands buried deep in his pockets. To Madeline, he clearly didn’t want to be here, “He asked me to get you.”

“How sweet,” Madeline sighed, pushing herself off the edge of the door, “Alright then Weasley, let’s go.”

“Don’t you need to get changed, or something?” Ron asked.

Madeline looked down at herself. She was still wearing her black Hogwarts skirt and white shirt, but the scarf and tie were long gone, replaced with a cosy green-knit cardigan. Her wand was tucked tightly in the waistband of her skirt. She wore the same patent black leather shoes she always wore, with a small yet distinguishable block heel. Although she’d grown up with her grandmother’s overbearing need for her to look _perfect_ and _distinguished_ at all times, Madeline didn’t exactly look _bad._

She shrugged, “You’re not changed, so why should I be? Come on, let’s go.” 

Madeline hopped out of the Slytherin door and onto the stone dungeon floor, the door melting into the brick wall as soon as she’d left it. Ron paused, watching her for a moment before taking off, not bothering to wait for her as the two made their way up towards the Gryffindor tower. 

Ron didn’t speak as the two trotted through the halls, Madeline taking this time to admire some of the portraits she perhaps wouldn’t have before. It was only when they’d left the dungeons did Madeline speak.

“So dragons, huh?” she tried as they began climbing the stairs, “Kind of crazy that they put them against that.”

“Right,” Ron replied plainly. Madeline furrowed her eyebrows; she was going to get the boy to talk.

“Theo said you brother was one of the keepers,” Madeline continued, “That must be an exciting job.”

“Yeah, it is,” Ron replied quickly, clearly not in a mood to talk.

Madeline was about to keep pressing, to find out if Ron _had_ known about the dragons. However, before she knew it, they were in front of the Fat Lady once again, much to her disdain.

“Password?” she asked, her eyes scanning over Madeline in judgement. 

“Pig snout,” mumbled Ron quietly, barely loud enough for Madeline to hear.

“Is she coming in as well?” the Fat Lady asked Ron, ignoring Madeline.

“Harry wants her in,” he shrugged, and the Fat Lady nodded decisively, glaring at Madeline before the frame swung open. 

Madeline huffed as they climbed through the archway, “Charming, as always.” 

The moment she set foot in the Gryffindor Common Room, she was met with mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface. The air was thick with stars and sparks, and banners hung off of every surface and window, each with drawings of Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt. A couple showed the other champions, or more specifically, Cedric with his head on fire.

Ron immediately went to join Dean and the looming pile of food on his table, leaving Madeline standing alone, like a mouse in a house of cats. She looked around for someone she might know, but unfortunately the only person who seemed to have spotted her was Seamus Finnigan. 

“Oi,” Seamus shouted, the room quieting down almost instantly. He pointed his slice of cake at her, “What’s she doing here?!”

“I have a name,” Madeline shot back, crossing her arms protectively as every set of eyes in the room fell to her. 

“Madeline is here-” Harry announced hastily, moving through the crowd quickly, “-Because I invited her. Now, if anyone has a problem with that, you can sod off to bed.”

Seamus glared at the girl, but eventually relented, turning away. A few murmurs began in the crowd, dissipating as Harry made his way over to her, “Are you alright?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Madeline shook her head, “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Yeah, but I still feel like I owe it to you,” Harry shrugged, handing her a glass of butterbeer, “I shouldn’t have avoided you for the past week just because of that guy-“

“Don’t worry about it, I told you,” Madeline interrupted, “He’s an ass, and talks like one. It’s fine.”

Harry smiled, taking her arm in his hand, “Come on then!”

Madeline rolled her eyes but laughed, letting herself be dragged into the crowd of Gryffindors.

Surprisingly, the party wasn’t that bad at all. Harry had introduced her to Ginny Weasley, the youngest of the siblings. She wasn’t the most amicable at first, but they got along well enough. Lee Jordan had introduced himself, and Madeline realised he was the third boy she’d seen with the Weasley twins only a few weeks before.

“They’ve gone to get more food,” Lee had told her when she’d asked of their whereabouts. 

She also had a semi-decent conversation with Dean Thomas, who was clearly still a little afraid of her (much to her pleasure). And although she still wore the Slytherin green with her cardigan, it seemed that for the most part, people had settled around her.

At least, until the Weasley twins arrived.

“Well look who the cat dragged in!” George teased, the two twins looping an arm around her shoulders each as soon as they’d spotted her.

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Fred asked, handing her a new glass of butterbeer.

Madeline rolled her eyes, nudging the pair, “Oi, I’ve already made enough of a scene.”

“Alright, fine,” George relented, unlooping his arm and stepping back, “See you later, Bisset!”

Madeline smirked as the boy made his way to the side of the room, specifically where Angelina Johnson sat with her friends. She turned to Fred, whose arm was still around her shoulders, “Lee told me you guys planned this whole thing out?”

“It’s what we do,” Fred grinned, gesturing to the room, “Anything for our Harry."

Madeline watched Fred as he surveyed the room, the weight of his arm on her shoulders suddenly all the more apparent. It wasn’t bad, not at all. It was nothing like Adam Louis’ hands on her waist when they’d waltzed, or when Theo would slap her hand if she tried stealing the pastries his grandmother sent him. 

It was warm, and inviting, and Madeline could almost call it welcome. 

"Blimey, this is heavy," announced Lee Jordan, picking up the golden egg, effectively breaking Madeline out of her musing, ”Open it, Harry, go on! Let's see what's inside it!"

"Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!" several Gryffindors echoed, including Fred, who had pulled Madeline to his side as a couple of first years had tried to squeeze past her.

Lee passed Harry the egg, who stood on the arm of the sofa so that everyone could see. Harry dug his fingernails into the sides, the latch opening. 

The moment he opened it, a loud wailing sound screeched, filling the room. Both Madeline and Fred went to cover their ears, Madeline registering how cold she felt without his arm on her shoulders. Everyone seemed to be doing the same, a first year even sinking to the floor.

"Shut it!" Fred yelled over the sound, Harry slamming the egg shut. 

"What was that?" asked Seamus Finnigan, "Sounded like a banshee… Maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Harry!"

"It was someone being tortured!" offered Neville, "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," George nudged the younger boy, "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions, not with the Ministry involved. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing… Oh! Maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower.”

Snickers echoed around the room. Fred leant over a couple of people and into a large bowl of biscuits, pulling a couple of jam tarts out. He turned to Madeline as the rest of the house continued to gossip.

“Want a jam tart?” Fred asked, a devious glint in his eyes.

Madeline scoffed, “Please. I’ve barely been here a term and I already know not to trust baked goods from you or your brother.”

“I’m offended,” Fred gasped, dramatically holding his heart, “I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch.”

Neville’s eyes widened, spitting out the custard cream he’d just bitten into. 

“He’s lying, Neville,” Madeline shook her head, patting the boy on the back, “He’s not smart enough to do that.”

“Hey!”

“Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?” Hermione asked, plucking a jam tart from the bowl.

Fred nodded, a tart stuffed into his mouth. He swallowed the biscuit, putting on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf, “ _‘Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!'_ They're dead helpful! Get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish.”

Madeline raised her eyebrow at this. In her home back in France, they hadn’t had any house elves. Her mother had always found the idea of it almost _crass_. They had a couple of people as their staff, such as the gardener and the chef, but most of the housework could be accomplished by magic.

"How do you get in there?" Hermione asked innocently.

“Easy; concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit,” Fred gloated, “Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and…Why?”

“Nothing,” shrugged Hermione.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" asked George, joining the conversation, "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"

“What leaflet stuff?” Madeline asked, an echo of groans following.

“Our _Hermione_ here is trying to set up a rebellion with the house elves,” Fred explained, “Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries! You'll put them off their cooking!”

Madeline ignored the red-haired boy and watched Hermione, who seemed embarrassed, but also… Relentless. There was a fire in her eyes, despite them being downcast onto the (ugly, _so_ ugly) carpet. In that moment, Madeline knew she was going to make this girl her friend.

“That’s cool,” Madeline spoke loudly, turning to Hermione, “Where do I sign?”

“What?” Hermione asked in stupor, her eyes widening.

“Do you have some sort of petition, or something?” Madeline asked, winking at the girl.

Hermione’s face split into a grin, her hands clapping together, “I’ll go get it now!”

* * *

It was late, almost one in the morning, when Madeline decided to head back to the dungeons. Had she not mentioned Harry's invite to Theo and Daphne after the tournament, she was sure the pair would’ve sent a search party for her. 

Fred had been the one to volunteer to walk her back to the dorms, claiming he was _‘the best at going undetected’_. The two quietly giggled as Fred goofily lead them through the school, rolling from alcove to alcove and hiding behind pillars. It took them far longer than it should have to reach the dungeons, ensuring Filch was nowhere near the Slytherin entrance before hopping down the corridor, laughing quietly.

“So,” Fred asked casually, “Did you have fun?”

Madeline paused, “Surprisingly, yeah. I didn’t think I would, actually.” 

“I can’t believe you beat Ron at high-speed Wizard Chess!” Fred praised, “Not even Hermione has managed that yet.”

“I’ve had practice,” Madeline admitted, “My uncle taught me when I was younger. That, and Theo practically _begs_ me to play him before bed.”

Fred laughed, hands tucked in his pockets as the two stopped outside the Slytherin entrance. Madeline sighed, “Well, this is me. Thanks for walking me back down.”

“Anytime,” Fred replied cheekily, nudging the girl with his elbow, “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Madeline nodded, their eyes meeting for a few moments, before he turned to walk back to the Gryffindor tower. The air stood still as Madeline suddenly realised that maybe, Fred Weasley made her a bit nervous. And she didn’t mind it.


	11. 10: 'SNAKE'

**CHAPTER 10: 'SNAKE'**

December brought about the cold winter frost to Hogwarts.

The short time that had passed after the first task had been uneventful. With the second task so far away, most of the Hogwarts students seemed to have returned to normal life (minus Quidditch, much to Ron Weasley's disappointment). The most exciting thing that had happened so far was an incident in Care of Magical Creatures, where Madeline and some of the Gryffindors had helped Hagrid recapture some skrewts whilst the rest of the class barricaded themselves in Hagrid's hut.

That all changed, however, at the end of a particularly boring Charms lesson. Madeline had been halfway through packing her bag when Flitwick called the room to attention.

"I've been asked to remind you all of the upcoming Yule Ball," Flitwick announced to the Slytherins and Ravenclaws in front of him, "It is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialise with our foreign guests."

Madeline turned to her friends in confusion, "The what now?"

"The ball will be open only to fourth years and above - although you may invite a younger student if you wish. Dress robes will be worn," Flitwick continued, ignoring Madeline's gaping expression, "And the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Alright, off you go to lunch you lot!"

"Didn't you know?" Daphne asked as the trio stood up, making their way out of the classroom, "The Yule Ball?"

"I did _not_ ," Madeline shook her head, "So what? We're not going home for the holidays?"

"You can choose," Theo explained as the three left the classroom, "There is a list outside the Great Hall. You can put your name down to stay for the ball and go home on boxing day, or to stay altogether, or to go home and miss the ball."

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, "Isn't that a little unfair?"

He shrugged, "Doesn't make a difference to me. I usually stay anyway."

"So," Daphne interrupted, squeezing herself between her two friends. She looped her arms into theirs, creating a chain, "Who are you all going with?"

Madeline scoffed, "I didn't know we _had_ a ball until like, thirty seconds ago."

"Surely there must be people lining up to ask you," Daphne pressed, "Ooh, maybe you could go with Malfoy! That would surely get Pansy's knickers in a twist."

Madeline scoffed, "I'd sooner die."

"And what about you, Theodore?" Daphne continued, "Any plans? Hot dates?"

"I've been thinking of asking someone," Theo revealed mysteriously, "But it's none of your business, Greengrass."

"You guys are so _boring,"_ Daphne whined, "Higgs asked me like, _days_ ago."

The trio stopped in their tracks, Madeline's eyes widening as she dragged her friends to the side of the corridor. "Higgs? As in _Terence Higgs_?"

Daphne nodded innocently, "We went on that library date. He's sweet, so I said yes."

"You should've told us!" Madeline exclaimed, a grin on her face.

"Krum will be heartbroken," Theo teased, earning himself a sharp nudge from Daphne.

"So, you two better hurry up," Daphne bragged, walking away with a spring in her step, "Or all the good ones will be gone!"

* * *

People began pairing off as soon as the news had spread about the ball. Soon enough, the Slytherins began pairing off too. Tracy and her boyfriend had finally made their relationship public when he'd asked her at breakfast one morning (they received obscenely loud applause from the older Slytherins, including Pansy). Blaise Zabini had asked a fifth-year Ravenclaw girl, and everyone assumed Pansy and Draco would be going together, although the latter made no move of asking her.

"Eloise Midgen got asked to the ball today," Daphne had announced as she sat herself down for breakfast, Terence seating himself by her, "Seriously, you guys need to get a move on."

"It's only been a few days since Flitwick told us," Madeline argued, "Surely not everyone is rushing around trying to secure a date?"

"Why don't you two go together?" Terence asked, twirling a piece of bacon on his fork, "Means you wont have to ask anyone."

"Theo wants to ask someone, but he's too much of a wuss to do it," Daphne explained, squeezing Theo's cheek affectionately.

"Actually," Theo interrupted, swatting Daphne's hand away. He cleared his throat pointedly, " _They_ ended up asking me first. And I said yes."

Daphne clapped her hands happily, shrieking. Madeline turned to her friend with a groan, "Oh you traitor."

"This is so exciting!" Daphne exclaimed, "Who is it?!"

"Wait and see, Greengrass. Unlike you, I keep my personal life _private._ "

"So it's just you," Daphne stated, pointing her knife at Madeline, "We need to find you a _hot_ date."

"Keep waving that thing at me and Higgs will have to go to the ball alone," Madeline threatened half-heartedly.

"How about Diggory?" Terence supplied, his arm moving to wrap around Daphne's shoulders, "He's a Hufflepuff, but he's one of the Champions."

Madeline shook her head, "We're friends, it would be weird. Besides, I think he's got a date. His fan girls have been a little less annoying than usual."

"Probably heartbroken," Theo agreed.

"Flint would probably go with you," Terence pushed, "I can ask him, if you'd like."

Madeline tried to recall what Flint looked like, her nose twitching in disgust, "No, but thank you."

"Miles Bletchley? I'd suggest his brother Kevin but I'm pretty sure he's going with-"

"Are you just listing people from the Quidditch team?" Madeline interrupted, narrowing her eyes.

"Maybe, but they're still the best option you've got," Terence pointed out, popping a strawberry into his mouth obnoxiously.

Terence wasn't exactly the worst looking student in their year. In fact, most people would call him handsome. The only problem was that he was _well aware_ of what that kind of power meant in Hogwarts. He wasn't very remarkable, but he brought the Quidditch team enough wins that he was considered one of the more popular Slytherin boys.

"I could just go alone," Madeline continued, "I'm not about to attend _another_ ball with someone I can't stand for more than ten minutes."

"You are _not_ going alone," Daphne stated seriously, "We still have plenty of time. I'm sure we'll find you someone."

* * *

Madeline all but threw herself on the plush leather couch of the Slytherin common room the minute her lessons for the day were over. She was the first one back, having raced for the comfort of the large room after the _hellish_ day she'd put herself through.

The classes themselves were fine. Snape wasn't in a particularly sour mood (albeit still sour), and didn't try to poison any of them. Professor Sprout complimented her latest catch-up essay, even going as far as telling her she could have a future in Herbology (thank you, but no). Despite how _nice_ her classes had been, Daphne had not stopped trying to find her a match for the Yule Ball.

She'd naively thought that the conversation would have been left alone after their breakfast, but sadly Daphne had other ideas. Throughout the day, she'd throw tiny pieces of parchment at Madeline to catch her attention, discreetly pointing at different people in the class. Every time, Madeline shook her head.

She'd been to a hundred balls before this one, and nothing truly made the Yule Ball anymore special than the others had. Frivolous gowns, stale conversations… If Madeline was really going to sacrifice her winter holidays to attend it, she'd be going with a suitor who wouldn't bore her half to death, thank you very much. She needed someone confident but not overly cocky, perhaps someone that didn't take themselves too seriously.

She was still lying down on the sofa with her head buried in its pillows when the Slytherin Dungeons opened again. She didn't bother lifting her head, figuring that whoever it was could manage without a greeting. Her head only snapped up when she heard quiet sniffling.

"It's alright," Tracy Davis cooed as she sat the young crying first-year girl on the couch opposite Madeline, handing her an embroidered green handkerchief.

"What happened?" Madeline asked, seating herself on the couch properly as she adjusted her hair.

She recognised the girl as Evie Sterling, a bright-eyed first-year with curled cropped red hair. She reminded Madeline a lot of Daphne, with her bright nature and happy laugh. It was a rare sight to see her upset, let alone sobbing in Tracy's arms.

"Some of the older Gryffindor boys were picking on her," Tracy explained plainly, "I found the poor thing in the dungeon bathrooms."

"Again?!" Madeline huffed. Of course, it was no secret that the Slytherins were the most disliked house, even an idiot would know that. However, recently the younger kids had been getting hell of a lot of taunting, Evie most certainly not being the first to end up in tears in the common room.

"What do you expect? They basically set us up for this," Tracy explained, rubbing the younger girls back, "You get sorted into Slytherin and everyone starts booing. They make us the villains so they can feel better about themselves."

"It's pathetic," Madeline agreed, raising her eyebrow as Tracy shrugged.

"What else can we do? It's not like we can change decades of prejudice," Tracy sighed, pulling Evie away from her and holding her at arms length, "Whoever tries to taunt you, or whatever happens, know that the Slytherin Common Room is always here for you. We might be _snakes_ as they like to call us, but we're still a family."

"Right," Madeline nodded, offering the teary girl a smile. Evie smiled back hesitantly, nodding excitedly.

The dungeons door opened once more, a flurry of first and second years rushing in. Tracy smiled at Evie, encouraging her to go join her friends. The young girl whispered a quiet 'thank you' to the two girls before rushing over to her friends, almost instantly giggling as two girls wrapped their arms around her shoulders, leading her up to the dorms.

"It's unfair," Madeline spoke after a while, her eyes still trained on the dormitory hallway, "They haven't done anything wrong. It's unfair that the whole school is against them."

"You weren't here in first year so you didn't get it, but it literally happens _every year_ ," Tracy explained, pulling a parchment out of her robe pocket. She handed it to Madeline, "I found Evie with this in the bathroom."

Madeline took the parchment and quickly unfolded it, her blood boiling the minute she unfolded it. In bright red letters, the word ' **SNAKE** ' had been scrawled on what looked like homework notes from one of Evie's essays. Logically, it could've been anyone, but Madeline knew the minute she saw the red ink that there could be only one house culprit.

"That's it," Madeline announced as she stood up, the parchment crumpling in her left hand, "I swear to _god_ I'm going to end up hexing that entire house into the Black Lake."

"Who's set her off this time?" Theo asked as he entered the common room, Daphne not far behind him as she echoed him with a grinning "Uh-oh."

"I'm going to pay a visit to the Gryffindors," Madeline stated darkly, "Don't wait for me for dinner."

* * *

Madeline marched through the Hogwarts corridor with a fire that would put the Goblet to shame. Everyone hurried to get out of her way as she stormed through the corridors, her robes flowing behind her as her hand held the parchment with a bruising grip. She climbed the ever-changing stairs, the portraits looking at her with fear as she made her way to the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," Madeline snapped unprompted, the Fat Lady's eyes bulging out of their sockets at the furious state the girl was in. Without another word, she swung the frame open.

Ron Weasley really should keep his voice down if he didn't want her knowing the password.

"Don't kill anyone!" the Fat Lady called behind her as Madeline stepped through the archway, muttering, "Merlin knows the stains are hard to clean…."

Meanwhile, Harry and his friends had been having a rather unimportant conversation, unaware of the approaching disaster. Fred and George happily hopped down the staircase from their dorm, seating themselves on either arm of Ron's sofa.

"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked.

"No, he's off delivering a letter," replied Ron. "Why?"

"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," Fred said sarcastically.

" _Because_ we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat," continued George.

"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" Ron asked.

"Nose out, Ron!" Fred cut in, waving his wand threateningly. He pulled himself onto the sofa, peering at the golden trio, "So… You lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"Nope," Ron replied bitterly.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," George teased, pulling himself onto the sofa exactly like Fred had.

"Who're you going with, then?" Ron asked, fully turning his body to his brother.

"Angelina," George replied proudly, without a trace of embarrassment.

"What? You've already asked her?!"

"Good point," George replied. He leant over the back of the sofa, calling across the room, "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina Johnson, one of the star Quidditch players for Gryffindor had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire. She lifted her head and looked over at him with a frown on her face, "What?" she called back.

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Angelina gave George an appraising sort of look, a small grin breaking on her face, "All right, then."

"Piece of cake," George bragged to the boys as he turned back around to the small group.

"Fine then, who are you going with?" Ron turned to Fred, raising his eyebrows.

Fred shrugged, "Haven't asked anyone yet."

"Oh go on," George teased, turning to the group, "There's a special someone he's too scared to ask."

"Sod off," Fred laughed, throwing one of the red pillows at his twin.

"Why don't you ask her?" Hermione asked, "I'm sure she'd say yes, you know. Unless someone's already asked her."

"I'll do it when I see her next," Fred promised, winking at his brother.

"We should get a move on, you know. Ask someone. He's right," Ron said to Harry, "We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."

Hermione let out a sputter of indignation, Fred and George whistling lowly.

"You shouldn't talk about women like that, little brother," Fred chastised, clapping his hand on Ron's back.

"Well - you know," Ron shrugged, "I'd rather go alone than with Eloise Midgen, say."

"She's really nice!" Hermione protested, "And she got asked this morning, by the way."

"Her nose is off-center," Ron stated.

"Oh I see," Hermione scoffed, "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

"Er - yeah, that sounds about right," Ron nodded, "Even Madeline Bisset would be better."

"And what's wrong with Madeline exactly?" Hermione pressed, Harry pointedly pulling himself away from the conversation. Even the twins leant back and away into the sofa.

Ron snorted, "She's just another spoilt rich girl, just like Malfoy. The two are probably snogging in Snape's office after classes."

"You're ridiculous!" Hermione exclaimed, "She's been nothing but nice to Neville and Harry, but you're too stubborn to see her as anything other than a Slytherin!"

"Well let's be honest Hermione, they don't exactly have the best rep," Ron shot back, "She'd probably tear this place down if she was given the cha-"

_"Which one of you twats did this?!"_

Every head in the common room snapped to the entrance as Madeline stormed in, holding the parchment high in the air as if it were the head of an animal she'd just killed. The word ' **SNAKE** ' was clear, the red almost accusatory.

"So?!" Madeline asked again, almost getting louder.

"Madeline!" George greeted amicably, staying a cautious distance away from her, "How's your week be-"

"Save it, Weasley," Madeline snapped, walking over to the small group and slamming the parchment onto the wooden coffee table, "Tracy and I just consoled a _crying_ first year Slytherin because one of you Gryffin _dorks_ thought that this was a perfectly acceptable thing to do."

Everyone stayed quiet, most eyes fixated on the parchment. Hermione seemed horrified, while the boys seemed expressionless.

"You know what? I'm just about _sick_ of other houses feigning entitlement because they're not from _'The Evil House,'_ " Madeline continued, "Eleven year-olds get sorted into Slytherin and get _boo'ed. Over something they can't control._ It's not their fault they value leadership and resourcefulness, is it?"

"You don't understand-"

"Shut it, Weasley," Madeline snapped, glaring at Ron, "They are _literally kids!_ And they're forced to go through the most important years of their lives being outcasted because guys like _you_ think it's fine to do shit like this, or are doing absolutely _nothing_ to stop it. And this isn't the first time something like this has happened."

"She's right," Hermione chimed in. Madeline didn't know if the girl genuinely agreed, or was simply repaying the favour Madeline had made her when she'd joined her House Elf freedom brigade, "It's not fair that the first-years are treated like that."

"Exactly. So, you guys better _fix your house_ , or me coming in here will be the last of your problems," Madeline snapped, unbothered by their gaping expressions. She grabbed the parchment from the table and tucked it into her pocket, storming out in the same manner she'd come in.

* * *

"Bisset; wait up!"

Madeline had been halfway down the first set of stairs when she heard her name. She turned around, half expecting to see Harry or Hermione.

She was greeted, instead, by Fred Weasley.

"If you're about to try and get me to apologise, the answer is-"

"Do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Madeline's eyes widened, her mouth falling open. _What the hell?_

"Seriously?" Madeline asked after a few moments, "Even after I ripped the entire Gryffindor Tower a new one?"

Fred shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets as he grinned cheekily, "To be quite honest, it was kind of hot."

Madeline's eyes widened even more. On one hand, she should curse him out for his awful timing. On the other hand, it was absolutely perfect.

"Alright, yeah," Madeline eventually agreed after she'd shaken herself out of her initial shock, nodding, "I'll go with you."

"Wicked," Fred grinned even wider, Madeline pointedly ignoring the Fat Lady's shocked expression on the wall behind Fred. "I'll, uh, see you at dinner, yeah?"

"Sure," Madeline nodded, ignoring the unfamiliar fluttering in her chest, "See you later."

Fred nodded, but seemed to hesitate. He squeezed Madeline's shoulder, almost too amicably, before jogging back through the Gryffindor entrance.

So, Madeline had a date to the ball after all.

* * *

"That didn't take long," Theo complimented as Madeline re-entered the Slytherin common room. Theo was sat on one of the couches next to Daphne and Terence, the other one occupied by Tracy and a couple of third-year girls. Malfoy, Pansy and his goons were sat on the table just behind them, paying no attention to Madeline.

"So? Any blood spilt?" Daphne asked, leaning forwards, "Ooh! Please tell me it was Finnigan."

"No, actually," Madeline replied stoically, seating herself at the armchair between the two couches, facing the fireplace.

"Well then, what happened?" Daphne pressed.

"I, uh, got a date to the Yule Ball?" Madeline replied hesitantly, "Oh, and I pretty much screamed down the Gryffindor Tower. I'm pretty sure the Fat Lady is going to give me a lifetime ban."

Everyone's eyes were on Madeline. Even Malfoy had lifted his head out of his book to stare at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Daphne looked at her friend incredulously, "You did _what_?"

"It was quite good, actually. They didn't really say much. Think I called them all a bunch of twats at one point-"

"No, I mean the _date!"_ Daphne squealed, "Who is it?!"

"If it's Potter, I'm locking you out of the common room," Terence threatened very, very seriously.

Madeline rolled her eyes, "It's not Potter. Actually, it was one of the twins."

Tracy spluttered, eyes as wide as saucers, "The Weasleys?!"

"Huh. Fair play," Daphne nodded in satisfaction, leaning back into the sofa with a grin on her face, "They're hot."

"Greengrass!"

"She could do a _lot_ worse with the sorts they have in Gryffindor," Daphne argued.

Malfoy snorted, drawing the small groups attention, "Please. If Bisset has sunk so low to have to go to the ball with a _Weasley,_ she may as well not go at all."

"Shut up Ferret," Madeline called back, snickers echoing into the common room. She turned back to her friends, "Anyway, now that we all have dates, can we _please_ stop talking about the ball until Christmas?"

Daphne smirked, stretching her arms onto the back of the sofa, "Oh darling, I've barely started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TO CLARIFY: This story is still intended to be a DRACO x OC eventual ending, but Madeline has far too much of a sense of self to be attracted to Draco with his current values/traits. They both need to be broken down a little more!


	12. 11: The Fat Lady

**CHAPTER 11: The Fat Lady**

"This is a nightmare," Madeline concluded, eyes wide in disbelief, "This is a _real_ living nightmare."

"I'm going to have to bleach my eyes," Daphne hissed from the seat by her side.

"I'm never going to forget this," Theo spoke in shock, mouth agape, "Seriously, this is _terrifying."_

Some may think the Slytherins had witnessed a gruesome murder in the way they'd speak about this day in the future. But truly, it was much, _much_ worse.

Because as head of Slytherin house, Professor Snape was in charge of teaching them how to waltz.

"The Yule Ball has always been an unfortunate side effect of the Triwizard Tournament, both of which I care little for," Snape began drawling as a first-year muggleborn Slytherin set up a gramophone. The disgust was evident in his voice, dripping from every syllable, "However, I have been asked to ensure that you all won't make fools out of yourselves on the evening."

"Pinch me, I'm dreaming," Daphne whispered to Theo.

"As representatives of Slytherin, you _will_ conduct yourselves with the utmost sophistication you can all muster, albeit low," Snape continued, scanning some of the less graceful students, "The Yule Ball is repulsively, first and foremost, a _dance."_

Murmurs began within the benches on the edges of the large dungeon room. Snape silenced them all at once with a flourish of his sleeve as he stepped back to the gramophone, which now seemed to work.

"Malfoy, Bisset; I assume you're both educated enough to know what a _waltz_ is," Snape snapped, not even bothering to look at Madeline's baffled expression, "Please demonstrate to the rest of the house, and _try_ not to make fools out of yourselves."

"He's kidding," Madeline gasped, Daphne and Tracy snickering, "Oh that son of a-"

" _Today,_ the both of you," Snape urged, music starting to waft out of the gramophone.

Madeline locked eyes with Draco, who seemed more smug than anything. He proudly stood up, clearly humouring the snide comments his friends made about her. Daphne and Theo could hardly keep themselves upright as they tried to contain their laughter, Tracy not doing a very good job either.

"This is a nightmare," Madeline muttered as she pushed herself up.

"Attagirl!" Daphne cheered between spurts of laughter.

Madeline huffed, meeting Malfoy in the middle of the room. Being so close to him, she realised that he was quite a few inches taller than her, with posture that could rival McGonagall's own. He smelt lightly like peppermint, and the arrogant smirk on his face showed her he was really, _really_ going to enjoy this.

"Don't you dare step on my toes, Malfoy, or I'll transfigure you into a ferret myself" Madeline hissed.

"Would you both like a few minutes to compose yourselves?" Snape mocked, Crabbe and Goyle snickering, _"Get on with it."_

Madeline huffed, placing her hand on Draco's upper-arm. She looked at him expectantly, "My waist, Malfoy."

"You have one of those?" he snapped, but complied.

The two locked their opposite hands together. Madeline realised that Draco's hand was much, much colder than her own. He still held his arrogant sneer as the two began taking their first steps, Madeline pointedly ignoring Theo and Daphne's mocking thumbs-up from the side of the room.

"Bloody hell, who taught you to dance? Hagrid?" Draco sneered in Madeline's ear. Madeline simply rolled her eyes.

"If you knew _anything_ about French aristocracy, you'd know that we learn to waltz before we can even hold a pen," Madeline snapped back, digging her fingers in Draco's shoulder, "And _you_ would know that your shoulders need to stay _down_ if you had half a functioning brain cell about this. Or a shred coordination, actually."

"Shut it, Bisset. At least I'm not going to the ball with a filthy blood traitor," Malfoy sneered quickly, the conversation still so quiet it could only be heard by them.

Madeline snorted, "Yes, because _Parkinson_ is a _much_ better choice. If you wanted to swap dates, you could've just asked."

"Not a _terrible_ disappointment," Snape drawled, interrupting the two. He raised his arms to the rest of the Slytherins, "The rest of you, copy them."

"Bloody hell," Madeline cursed as the two continued their dance. Theo and Daphne were the first to join, with Daphne eagerly forcing him up, much to Terences' disappointment. He took Pansy as his partner instead, while Tracy and her boyfriend followed.

Madeline kept a sour expression on her face as the two extended their arms, Draco spinning her before the two rejoined with opposite arms. Although their chemistry was dry, Madeline hated to admit that he wasn't the _worst_ dance partner she'd ever had. Not even close.

"Careful, it's obvious," Draco teased, Madeline furrowing her eyebrows as the two kept their slow, steady boring pace. Madeline shook the sour expression from her face.

"What is?"

"That you're totally falling in love with me."

Madeline huffed at Dracos arrogant grin, eyes meeting with Pansy's, who was just nearby. "Oi, Parkinson. Take your lap dog back. I've only got ten toes and I'd like to keep them all."

With a forced spin, Madeline moved out of Draco's arms and into Terence, who caught her with little to no grace. Madeline grabbed his arms and positioned him correctly, moving them as far away from Draco as possible.

"Stupid, insolent prick," Madeline huffed, leading the dance much more than Terence possibly could.

"Uh, thank you?"

"Not you. Malfoy,"

"You two looked good together," Terence shrugged.

"Say that one more time, and Daphne won't have a date to the Yule Ball."

"Alright, alright," Terence relented sheepishly, "But, uh - Could you show me how to actually do all this? I don't want to make a right fool out of myself."

Madeline caught sight of Daphne and Theo, who were expertly waltzing around the room with a slight tinge of dorkiness, one that could only be achieved with best friends. Madeline sighed, but nodded.

"Fine. First rule; don't watch your feet. And keep your shoulders down, or I'll hex you a corset!"

* * *

It was the first day of the winter holidays. No one had been able to keep their concentration in classes the previous day, far too excited for the prospect of the Yule Ball.

The event had slowly creeped up on Hogwarts, excited gossip travelling throughout the school. A funny little rumour had gone around suggesting that the Hufflepuff Qudiditch Team had managed to sneak some firewhisky onto the school grounds and planned on spiking the punch with it. Others claimed it would be the Weasley twins.

Uniforms had been retired in trunks, apart from the occasional black robe worn when it became particularly chilly in the corridors. The Beauxbatons students were the only ones who kept their uniforms on at all times, Madeline assumed it had something to do with respecting their school. Even the Durmstrang students had forgone their thick furs for slightly more casual-looking fur robes.

Thick snow had started falling, the Black Lake icing over. The Beauxbatons carriage resembled a small ice palace, while the Durmstrang ship seemed to become more and more like a ghost ship, with its frosted portholes and bare mast. The Slytherin Dungeons had become chillier than usual, the fireplace almost always on.

It was a bright Saturday morning in the Great Hall, just a few days after the Slytherin's (horrendous) dance lesson with Snape. Most students had decided to sleep in late to celebrate the beginning of their holidays, but Daphne, Madeline and Theo were not amongst those people.

The trio sat at the Slytherin table, as they always did, with steaming cups of coffee in front of them. Theo and Madeline had begun their christmas homework essays, finishing off their Potions homework that morning. Although it may not seem like it, Madeline had changed a lot since the first time she'd stepped into Hogwarts.

Her dark hair was tied high into a ponytail, stray strands hanging loose on the sides of her face. Months ago, she would've made sure her hair was smooth and immaculate, or not tied up at all. Her cheeks held a slightly rosier tinge to them, not so much to suggest that someone had breathed life into her face, but more-so a gentle yawn. Her freckles were returning, a side effect of her underusing the beauty charms her grandmother had taught her.

"You guys are _such_ nerds," Daphne muttered as she cut her pancake into pieces, "Seriously, it's the first day of the holidays."

"The sooner we do our homework, the more time we'll have to listen to you gush about Terence," Madeline pointed out, finishing the last sentence in her essay with a flourish of her pen, "And… Done! Also, some of us don't like leaving their work until the last minute."

"Speaking of leaving things until the last minute," Daphne began, "Our dearest Madeline here has _yet_ to get a dress for the ball."

Madeline shrugged, rolling up her parchment, "I have dresses at home. Mum is sending me a couple before Christmas."

"You're far too calm about this, the both of you," Daphne sighed, "And Theo, I expect to see you on the arm of a _beautiful_ girl with the amount of secrecy you've built around this. Or a boy. Or neither. I won't judge."

Theo barely moved his gaze away from his essay, "You'll have to wait and see. And, for the record, it's a girl."

"Damn, I had a bet on when you and Krum would get it on," Madeline joked, Theo simply shaking his head fondly at his friends.

The familiar sound of owls flying into the hall interrupted their breakfast. Everyone looked up, excited squeals coming out of every other student, including Pansy Parkinson, who had narrowly missed a rather feisty owl delivering a letter, clearly in a rush.

Sets of owls flew into the Great Hall, some holding letters, but the majority carrying large packages between two or three of them. They elegantly dropped them onto the large tables, including three right in front of the Slytherin trio.

Daphne gasped, "My Madam Malkin order arrived early!"

"I thought you had a dress?" Theo asked, offering a biscuit to each owl.

"You can never have too many options," Daphne winked, hands caressing the sides of the box as if it were a prized treasure. With Daphne's taste in clothes, Madeline was sure they were. Daphne looked at Theo's package once the owls had cleared out, "Are those your dress robes?"

Theo nodded, smoothing out the wrinkles on his package, "They're the good ones."

Madeline's hands ran over the neat golden calligraphy at the top of her box, which she recognised as her mothers. There was a letter attached with her name on it, but what truly caught her eye was the small message right below her name on the package.

_'Ouvre ça quand tu es seul'_

To any normal onlooker, it may as well have been an inspirational message, or a fancy Fred robes shop. But Madeline, or anyone who could speak French really, knew better. For the inscription translated to _'Open this when you are alone'._

"Alright then, let's see them," Daphne clapped her hands excitedly, her full attention on Madeline.

"They're a surprise," Madeline blurted out, "Fred and I are matching. I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

"Boo, you're both so boring," Daphne huffed, turning to Tracy, who had also received a parcel, "Is that the dress you told me about?!"

Madeline looked over her shoulder at the Gryffindor table. Harry, Hermione and Ginny were busy mocking Ron about his over-the-top, outdated dress robes (she could see _frills)._ Further down the table, Lavender Brown was busy gushing to her friends about the jewellery she'd just received from her parents. George Weasley and Angelina Johnson were shooting each other flirty looks across the table. Fred was far too preoccupied scribbling a letter on a piece of parchment Hermione had given him to notice Madeline staring.

Madeline wasn't nervous. No, she refused to be. She'd been to hundreds of balls before, and she was determined that the Yule Ball was no different. After all, the minute she began caring about these things, the all the more difficult it becomes to let go of them.

Her mother had known something dark was coming, and although Madeline had relented into giving herself the luxury of making friends, she was most definitely not under the illusion that things would stay the same forever. She knew that one day, maybe soon, she'd have to pick a side.

And so, no matter how badly she wanted to talk to Daphne about gowns and hair, and no matter how desperately she wanted to march over to Fred and _talk to him_ about things other than house rivalries, she couldn't and she wouldn't.

No matter how nice Fred's arm had been around her shoulder.

* * *

It was a few hours later when Madeline was finally alone in her dorm room, the large wrapped box in front of her on her bed.

She had no idea what dresses her mother had sent her. She'd assumed something blue, her mothers favourite colour. But she also knew how much her mother liked to show off her only daughter, so perhaps something extravagant. She trusted her mothers taste, and so she decided to open the letter with little rush, scanning over the fancy cream-coloured paper eagerly.

_'Darling Madeline,_

_It saddens me that you won't be home for Christmas Day, but thankfully, you won't be the only one. Your aunt and uncle will be visiting on the 27th, so that we can all celebrate the holidays together._

_I'm delighted to hear that Hogwarts is allowing an event like this to take place; it will do you good to brush up on your social skills. I've sent you some of my favourite gowns of yours in the house, with an addition of one your grandmother absolutely insisted on you having. You'll know the one._

_In the box is also an early Christmas present. It's something your father made me when we became engaged, and I think it's time for you to have it. Wear it with pride, and with caution._

_I hope to hear back from you soon. If not, I expect to see you bright and early on the 26th!_

_With love, always,_

_Eloise Bisset.'_

Madeline neatly began pulling the golden ribbons undone, tearing the cream wrapping paper. The box was thick, and clearly enchanted to ensure the contents were safe. She lifted the lid slowly, holding her breath.

She knew her grandmother's gown the minute she saw it, and she knew that it was perfect. But what truly caught her eye was the smaller white box lying on top of it, her other gowns neatly folded to the right of it.

She picked up the small box and held it with curiosity. It felt light, far too light for it to be a diamond necklace. Perhaps earrings? It couldn't be a ring; her mother had always hated rings. She lifted the lid of the box, and she the breath be knocked out of her stomach.

It was _beautiful_.

A small golden chain sat on the black velvet inside the box. On the chain, a teardrop pendant was laid out, made from a thick golden wire that had been hammered down flat, the edge of the shape slightly imperfect and all the more beautiful. The left edge of the teardrop connected to its point, but the right curved in under the point, almost as if it were the number 6, but far more elegant and elongated.

It was the Bisset family emblem; a crest worn by generations upon generations of her family. The pendant was no bigger than a galleon, and perhaps it hadn't been wire it was made of, but maybe it had been carved from a galleon directly. Either way, Madeline felt immediately drawn to the object.

She unclasped the chain and quickly reconnected it behind her neck, the pendant falling just at the top of her sternum. It was long enough to be easily concealed under her tie. The minute it touched her skin, she felt connected to it, as if it had always been there.

And as if it was meant to be worn by her.

She repackaged the gowns and slid the large box underneath her bed. There must be a reason her mother didn't want her opening the package or letter in front of anyone else, and perhaps it was the necklace. She didn't want to take any chances, and so, with a quick fire-starter spell, she burnt the letter on a ceramic plate on her nightstand, the ashes easily mistaken for leftover potion ingredients.

With the necklace around her neck, Madeline almost felt like a part of her had come back home.

* * *

It was a few days after Madeline had received her mothers package. Hogwarts was as full as ever, with the majority of years four and above staying for the ball. With no classes, everyone seemed to be enjoying their newfound freedom as the ball drew closer.

Madeline, Theo and Daphne had spent the majority of their time in the Slytherin Dungeons, as had the majority of their house. Sometimes, one of them would go to the Great Hall and bring back food for the other two. Some of the other Slytherins did this as well, not because they were unsociable, but mostly because they enjoyed the safe company of their own house more.

Madeline was sat on one of the Slytherin couches with her legs splayed out onto the other side of it, reading a muggle novel Evie Sterling had given her for christmas. Daphne and Theo took an armchair each, the latter helping Daphne with her Arithmancy homework.

Madeline had lost interest in the book a while ago, distracted by something (or more like someone) else.

The book told tales of epic romances and happily ever after, of love that could never be lost. Madeline wasn't naive enough to believe that love was the end-all-be-all of pain. Love wasn't a weakness, not at all. But Madeline believed that people have some power over who they love, that it doesn't come as an epic realisation or something magical. If she was to ever marry, she knew she'd do it out of love and not of convenience, that she would _choose_ who to love.

Which lead her onto Fred. She wasn't in love, not even close. But he'd asked _her_ to the ball, and no one had forced him to (she'd checked with a couple of Gryffindors to make sure). She'd never been asked to a ball before, and certainly hadn't danced with anyone as handsome as Fred. She'd been to many balls to meet people, sure; but she'd never been _with_ someone. And Fred must see _something_ in her to have asked her above anyone else, despite their few conversations.

Which lead her to something else; _who was she?_ She knew little to nothing about her father or his family, who she was supposedly meant to be with here in Hogwarts, so how could she feel like a complete person without knowing about such an important person in her life?

The necklace hidden under her shirt was as much a burden as anything could be, tied around her neck to remind her that she would always be seen in the Bisset name. That her status would loom above her as a pre-laid destiny, that she would always amount to her name. And it wasn't fair.

She couldn't lie, she _loved_ the status her family name gave her. She grew up with the luxury of rose-tinted glasses, of being hidden from the evil of the world. She had the money and the name, but it shouldn't be all she was. She wanted to know who her father had been, so she could figure out who she wanted to be.

"You're thinking," Daphne stated as she realised Madeline's distraction, "Wait no; you're brooding, and it's not attractive."

Madeline rolled her eyes, throwing the book onto the sofa next to her, "I am _not_ brooding."

"Yeah yeah, now spill," Daphne huffed, moving her parchments out of the way before leaning forwards onto the table, her head perched in her hands, "What's got you all moody?"

"She's in love," Theo teased, his tone hilariously plain.

"No she isn't, otherwise she wouldn't be avoiding leaving the Dungeons," Daphne scoffed.

"I am _not_ avoiding him!" Madeline argued, patting the sofa, "I'm just… Perfectly comfortable here, you know?"

"Alright, now tell us," Daphne pressed, "What's gotten you in a mood?"

Madeline sighed, sitting up and rubbing her temples, "I came to Hogwarts to know more about my father, but I've learnt a big fat nothing so far."

"That's it?" Daphne asked in disbelief.

Theo shrugged, "Did he go to Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, he was a Gryffindor," Madeline hesitantly admitted.

"Well, then why don't you ask the portraits? They've been around for decades, they'll surely have known him."

Madeline could have kissed Theo in that moment. She didn't, but she could've. She grabbed her book and got up instantly, a beaming smile on her face.

"Theodore Nott, you are a _genius_."

* * *

Madeline all but ran to the Gryffindor Tower, dodging worried-looking students as she climbed the stairs two-at-a-time. She only stopped when she finally, _finally_ found The Fat Lady, who had been sipping at a crystal goblet, almost dropping it at the sight of Madeline.

"Oh no, you are _not_ coming in young lady!" she protested immediately at the sight of Madeline.

Madeline grabbed the banister as she caught her breath, a smirk on her face, "Trust me, I don't want to go in. I've just got a few questions."

"The cheek!" The Fat Lady exclaimed, catching the attention of the surrounding paintings, "For you to come into _my_ common room and scream the place down like a _hooligan_ , and now-"

"Did you know Caradoc Dearborn? I'm his daughter."

The change in The Fat Lady was almost instant. Her eyes widened and her goblet shattered onto the painting floor. The surrounding paintings gasped, one even almost falling off the wall. The Fat Lady blinked in stupor, re-examining the girl in a new light. Finally, her face broke out in the widest grin Madeline had ever seen.

"Of course you are!" she exclaimed with a laugh, "Gosh, how hadn't I seen it before?!"

"Um, thank you? I was wondering if you could tell me a little about-"

"What a troublemaker that Dearborn was," The Fat Lady gushed. Madeline smirked, seating herself against the banister and listening to The Fat Lady intently. "And a _brilliant_ mind too! Yes, he's responsible many of the secret passages in Hogwarts, you know?"

"Really?"

"He was a brilliant inventor," The Fat Lady continued, taking a chair from behind the frame and seating herself on it, "Oh, they were cut from the same cloth that Lupin and Dearborn. Always up to trouble, but brilliant, _brilliant_ minds. And hearts of gold, both of them. I remember your father would tell stories of their antics at the fireplace…"

And so, Madeline sat in front of the Gryffindor Tower for hours listening to The Fat Lady talk about her father. She learnt about the time he'd accidentally set half of the Potions classrooms on fire (yes, multiple ones), about his brilliant Quidditch career, and about the time he and Eloise Bisset had started exchanging letters via owl.

"He was a man as in love as could be," The Fat Lady sighed, "Sure, James would tease him, but he wasn't any less in love with Lily… They met at a family function over a summer I believe, and he came back to Hogwarts with her name on his lips and his heart on his sleeve. Oh, what a romance! Your mother and Caradoc would write poems to each other that would make the sirens in the Great Lake swoon. He even made her a necklace out of the first goblet they ever shared."

Madeline pulled the necklace out from under her jumper, the gold shimmering in the torch lights, "This one?"

"Yes!" The Fat Lady smiled, "It's very well kept, I must say. Oh, such a pity what happened to him…"

Madeline's smile dropped, "I, uh, never got to meet him."

The Fat Lady gasped, her hand flying to her chest, "Oh, you poor dear! Well, you are every bit your father; fiery and bright, and every bit loyal to Hogwarts. I believe Hogwarts was truly his family, you know-"

"Bisset?"

Madeline's head spun to the top of the staircase, where none other than Fred Weasley stood, very confused as to why his Yule Ball date was sat outside his common room door having a chat with a painting.

Madeline hastily stood up, brushing the dust off her jumper, "Oh, Weasley; hey!"

"Hey-"

"A Weasley and a Dearborn, oh how perfect!" The Fat Lady exclaimed, swooning over the two, "Oh, Freddie darling; she can come to the Gryffindor Tower any time! Just don't tell Minerva will you?"

"Thank you," Madeline cut in, turning back to Fred, "Um… Hey?"

"Should I be flattered you're standing outside my common room, Bisset?" Fred asked cheekily, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed.

"You wish, Weasley," Madeline scoffed, a small grin still ghosting on her face, "No, actually I was having a chat with The Fat Lady."

"And you were clearly enjoying yourself," Fred smirked, "But please, don't let me keep you if you have somewhere to be. I'll see you around, yeah?"

Fred began making his way to the common room. Madeline's eyes fell onto a clock above; she had been talking with The Fat Lady so long that it was almost dinner time. She looked at Fred, who was about to speak the password-

"Actually; Weasley?" Madeline found herself calling.

Fred turned back to her in surprise, "Yes, Bisset?"

Madeline smiled. A real, genuine smile. Because her father hadn't been a villain or a recluse; he'd been an inventor and a poet, a man who loved with every fibre of her body. And she'd be damned if she didn't let herself experience the same. The Fat Lady's words echoed in her head;

_"I believe Hogwarts was truly his family."_

"I'm quite peckish. Care to join me for dinner?"

The dopiest grin spread across Fred's face. They both ignored The Fat Lady's squeals. Fred gestured to the staircase with a dramatic flourish and a wink.

"After you, Madeline."


	13. 12: The Yule Ball

**CHAPTER 12: The Yule Ball**

_"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"_

It was the morning of the Yule Ball, which meant it was also Christmas morning. Daphne had awoken the entire Slytherin fourth-year girls dorm by getting up early extra early and storming back in with numerous mugs of steaming hot _Conjure Cocoa_ , topped with far more whipped cream and marshmallows anyone could stomach at such an early hour. However, Daphne's christmas cheer was annoyingly infectious, so much so that even Pansy got up for the promise of hot chocolate.

Presents were unwrapped in the common room first thing. Madeline's family had decided to keep the present exchange until they were together for the holidays, which was understandable. To her surprise, however, her friends had gotten her gifts.

Daphne had given her an enchanted hairbrush to smooth down any flyaway hairs, and Theo had gifted her a collection of fancy feather quills that would write in any colour ink you could imagine. Tracy had given her some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans (as she had been _shocked_ to find out that Madeline had never tried them), and even Terence had given her a book about Quidditch (which she would _not_ be reading).

Madeline had given her friends neatly packaged French hard-boiled sweets that each tasted of a different dessert ( _"You have to try 'Madame's Bonbons', they are to die for!"_ ). She had to order the majority of her gifts from boutiques she knew in France, as she hadn't been to Hogsmeade yet. For Daphne, she had gotten a beautiful carved marble jewellery box with small blue flowers engraved at the top. For Theo, she'd gotten him an antique set of cufflinks with elegant golden designs.

The trio went to breakfast together, Madeline carrying a box filled with the bags of _'Madame's Bonbons'_ for her friends in other houses. She'd caught Cedric on the way down, who seemed very excited at the candy, and gave her a parcel of homemade mince pies from his mother, as well as a warm hug only the likes of a Hufflepuff could achieve.

"Merry Christmas you idiot," Madeline had laughed, ruffling his hair.

The trio had a joyful breakfast as the rest of their house joined them, laughter and cheer filling the hearts of the Slytherin students. Malfoy and his goons were notably missing, but Pansy had joined them regardless, laughing along to Tracy's stories. Some of the younger students had stayed regardless of not being able to go to the Yule Ball, so Madeline and Daphne made sure to share their sweets and chocolates with them.

Before returning to the common room, Madeline had hopped over to the Gryffindor table and given each of the Golden Trio a bag of _Madame's Bonbons_ (much to Ron's surprise, and utter delight). She did the same for Neville, George, and of course, Fred. The twins seemed to be completely transfixed with the candy, and Madeline promised to bring more back after her visit home.

She'd delivered Fleur her present the night before, leaving it outside the Beauxbatons carriage with a neat note; a gorgeous blue crocodile hair clip. She spotted her wearing it at breakfast, and upon arriving at the Slytherin dungeons, found a lovely set of French potions textbooks waiting for her.

The day was spent with the rest of her house, everyone somehow managing to pile themselves around the fireplace. Draco eventually resurfaced, surprisingly seating himself next to Pansy as everyone shared sweet treats and stories. Barely anyone made their way to lunch, opting to eat at the ball instead with the promise of a large Christmas feast.

It was many hours later before people started trailing back off to the dorms to get ready. Madeline was the last of the girls to leave, opting to spend a few more minutes (or hours) with Theo beating him at Wizard Chess over and over again. She was only dragged away by Daphne hours later, insisting that an hour was far too short of time to get ready.

"We can literally _magic_ makeup on our face," Madeline protested as the dorm door shut behind her.

"And where is the fun in that?!" Daphne laughed, her hair pinned back in curlers and her makeup half-done, "Now, get to it."

"Bloody hell, you're like my mother," Madeline sighed, making her way over to her trunk.

The fourth year girls chatted amicably, even Pansy joining in once in a while. Tracy had come in from the fifth year girls dorm to bring them an enchanted gramophone, a gift from her cousin, which played cheesy christmas music throughout the room. The girls laughed and celebrated, even dancing between hair and makeup (Daphne performing a particularly good rendition of the holiday classic _'Charmed Christmas Eve'_ ).

An hour later, all the girls had slipped into their gowns apart from Madeline, who was still lagging behind. Pansy had opted for a ridiculously frilly pink dress that suited her complexion, while Daphne had straightened and pinned her hair up in a sleek bun, with a beautiful silky dark orange gown, the neckline strappy and scalloped, and the skirt embroidered with tiny specks of gold. A matching sash was tied around the bun like a hair-tie.

It was twenty minutes before the Slytherins were due in the Great Hall, so with Madeline's insistence, the girls left the dorm room and headed down to the common room to meet their dates, leaving Madeline to slip into the gown her grandmother had sent her alone.

* * *

"Bloody hell, where is she?" Daphne sighed to Theo as the Slytherins stood in the common room, all dressed in their best robes and gowns.

Daphne, Theo and Terence were stood at the corner of the common room, just outside the girls dorms, waiting for Madeline. They were due to leave soon, albeit the Great Hall was not too far from the dungeons. None of the other Slytherins paid them much mind apart from Tracy, who stood with her boyfriend and his friends not too far away.

"Lets just head down without her," Terence suggested, earning himself a sharp glare from Daphne.

"And here I thought _you_ were the one for the dramatics," Theo remarked, smoothing down his dark blue velvet robes.

Theo looked up when Daphne didn't reply, to see her with her mouth wide open, eyes fixated on the entrance to the dorms. She followed her gaze, and all at once realised what, or rather _who_ , had paralysed her from shock.

For in that moment, Daphne and Theo realised that Madeline could very much be French royalty.

"What are you lot staring at?"

Madeline descended into the common room, her hair curled loosely and partially pinned up, with a few stray strands framing her face. Her makeup was natural and neutral, with a very slight gold shimmer on her eyelids and rosiness in her lips. The necklace she had received from her mother hung around her neck, but the true crowning piece of the outfit was, well, _the dress._

The top of the dress was made of a dark purple velvet, Madeline's favourite colour, which would shift to an equally dark green if the light would allow. It was embroidered with golden thread and tiny leafed garlands, with the tiniest green crystals Daphne had ever seen. The skirt was of the same material, but also had a layer of a lightly blushed tulle underneath, which could be seen by the opening at the front of the skirt. On the skirt were numerous little golden embroideries, all of a similar variation to the top of the dress.

Daphne was sure that if Madeline were to walk into a palace, that they'd crown her queen on the spot.

"Bloody hell, you clean up well," Terence complimented, earning an eye roll from Madeline and a nudge from Daphne.

"I _do_ have years of gruelling practice, thank you very much," Madeline huffed, looking at her two awestruck friends curiously, "Are you guys alright?"

"You're beautiful," Daphne admitted, blinking herself out of stupor, "I mean, you look really, _really_ good."

"Seriously, Weasley is a lucky man, and you better make sure he knows it," Tracy complimented, joining the small group with her boyfriend, "We should head down now, shouldn't we?"

The small group nodded in agreement, and it seemed that the rest of the Slytherins had made the same conclusion, all moving to the dungeon door with gleeful chatter, an unfamiliar sight in the dungeons. Theo and Madeline lagged behind the group slightly, even as they made their way through the corridors.

"Where is your date?" Madeline asked Theo once they'd left the common room, realising that there was no girl by his side (and to be honest, Madeline had been hoping for Pansy).

"Meeting her in the Entrance Hall, same as your date," Theo shrugged, holding his arm out, "But in the meantime, shall we?"

Madeline grinned, looping her arm dramatically around her friends. The two held their heads up high, "We shall dear Theodore, we shall."

Neither friends noticed Draco Malfoy curiously peer behind him, trying to catch another glimpse of the girl in the shifting dress.

* * *

The Slytherins climbed the steps from the dungeons up to the entrance hall, met with busy and bustling crowds of students. The students who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another. Madeline spotted Harry and Ron with their dates, Padma and Parvati, both of which looked stunning.

She also spotted Fleur, who seemed to be searching for her date in the crowd, a few other Beauxbatons girls doing the same. She navigated her way towards the Slytherins, which was curious, because _surely_ there was no one in Slytherin she would be attending the ball with-

"Theodore!" Fleur exclaimed once she'd arrived in front of the two, a smile on her face, "I was beginning to think you'd dashed away!"

It took Madeline a few moments to process it, her jaw dropping in shock, but once she had, she playfully slapped Theo's arm, "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I wanted it to be surprise. I _am_ a gentleman, after all," Theo muttered, rubbing his arm. He extended his hand to Fleur, who took it. He leant down to kiss her hand gently, as a gentleman would, and offered his arm to her much like he had with Madeline, "You look beautiful, Miss Delacour."

Fleur smiled as the two made their way to the front of the Entrance hall, ready to begin the dance. She shot Madeline an excited look over her shoulder, walking away as her beautiful silvery-blue dress shimmered with every step.

Madeline attempted to peer over the heads of the crowds, searching for Fred. She had yet to spot him as she watched other partners couple up, including Cedric and a rather pretty Ravenclaw girl named Cho. Even Neville and Ginny seemed to be particularly cute together, much to Ron's displeasure, she was sure.

At once, the oak front doors opened. Everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff leading them. Krum was at the front of the party of students, with a rather pretty girl in frilly pink robes. Not as frilly as Pansy's, no one else would dare be that extreme. But the dress seemed to make her float, the layers painting her like a pretty flower.

And then Madeline realised who it was.

"Daphne!" Madeline hissed, moving through the crowd over to her friend and nudging her pointedly. She nodded her head to the oak doors, "That's Hermione Granger!"

Daphne's mouth fell open. She immediately stood on her tip-toes, peering over the crowd. When her eyes fell on her, she smirked and nodded in approval, "Well, she looks hot."

Professor McGonagall's voice caught everyone's attention, distracting Madeline and Daphne from the view of Hermione, "Champions over here, please!"

At once, the four Hogwarts Champions made their way over to McGonagall. Some couples began floating into the Great Hall to find their seats for the feast, taking the cue from the way McGonagall was animatedly moving her arms.

"Do you want me to wait with you?" Daphne asked Madeline, squeezing her arm reassuringly.

Madeline shook her head, spotting Angelina Johnson with George as they walked into the hall, "No, it's alright. I'll wait a few more minutes. George and Angelina just walked in, so he can't be too long."

"If you're sure," Daphne pressed, grabbing Terence's arm, "Alright, lets get this party started."

"Get this party _what_ -"

Madeline watched as Daphne all but dragged Terence to the Great Hall, shaking her head fondly. If Terence could learn to keep up with her best friend by the end of the night, she'd be surprised, and slightly impressed.

"Maddy!"

Madeline spun around at the nickname, knowing only one person in Hogwarts had the guts to call her that so far. Her eyes widened as she spotted Fred rushing over from the Grand Staircase, straightening the thin black tie around his neck.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," he apologised immediately, catching his breath. However, it was knocked straight back out of him the minute he really took Madeline in.

"Oh. _Wow._ "

Madeline felt herself blushing, but plastered a cocky grin onto her face. She clicked her fingers in front of his face, "Chin up, Freddie. You don't look so bad yourself."

And he _really_ didn't look bad _at all_ , wearing black robes with a velvet orange waistcoat. In fact, he looked positively handsome.

"And here I was beginning to think that you'd changed your mind," Madeline teased.

"Me? Change my mind? Absolutely not," Fred grinned, a smile akin only to a Cheshire cat.

"Well then Freddie," Madeline offered her arm out to him, "Shall we?"

Fred grinned, looping his arm around hers much like Theo had, "We shall, Maddy."

* * *

For the feast, Madeline had found herself at a rather… _Curious_ table. She had sat herself between Fred and George, with Angelina at George's left. Ron and Padma Patil sat across from them, as well as Ginny with Neville, Lee Jordan with Katie Bell, and Seamus Finnigan with Lavender Brown.

All in all, Madeline felt like a snake in a den of lions. Which, she kind of was.

Daphne, Tracy and Terence had found themselves seated at one of the Slytherin tables, far far away from Madeline, unfortunately. Theo and Fleur were sat at the Champions table, both their backs to the girl.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The room had a chill to it, as if everything had been replaced with ice, but it wasn't cold at all.

Small menus had been placed on the tables, with at least two dishes from each country of each magical school in attendance per course. Madeline had gone with the pork chops for her main course, and the moment she had spoke it out loud, the meal had appeared in front of her.

The table had been halfway through their food when Madeline realised something. She didn't really know any of these people very well, the majority of her friends sat on different tables or at the Champions tables. She didn't know how to join in when Angelina made an inside joke about the Gryffindor Quidditch team, nor if she should laugh when Seamus made a snarky remark about Neville.

Funnily enough, Neville and Ginny were the first to notice that the Slytherin girl was in fact maybe a little lost. Ginny cleared her voice pointedly, drawing the conversation to her.

"Madeline, I can't believe I haven't asked you before; but how _is_ France?" Ginny asked with wide glittering eyes, Madeline's own widening in surprise. All eyes turned to look at her, "I bet it's so glamorous!"

"Oh, well," Madeline began, wiping her hands with a napkin, slightly flustered, "What would you like to know?"

"Do you live in Paris?" Lavender asked excitedly.

Madeline shook her head with a short laugh, "Actually, I live on the edge of Grasse. It's not exactly the biggest place in the world, but it's the world's perfume capital, so I guess it counts for something."

"Oh! Is that why you always smell of lemongrass?" Fred asked, Madeline turning to him in surprise.

"You noticed?" Madeline asked in surprise, her eyes lingering on Fred's for a little while too long. She cleared her throat and turned back to the group, "But, yes. My grandmother and I made the perfume while visiting the city. I've worn nothing else since."

"That's so sweet," Lavender gasped, Padma nodding along.

"Do you know when you'll be going back?" Seamus asked abruptly, a clear dislike for the girl evident in his tone.

Madeline frowned, "Well, my stay in Hogwarts is indefinite."

"What a shame," Ron muttered to Seamus lowly, earning a sharp kick from Ginny underneath the table, "Oi! What was that for?"

And so, the meal continued in a similar fashion. No one really asked Madeline much else, apart from Fred and Ginny, who eagerly tried to find out more about her. Eventually, when the meals had been finished, Dumbledore stood up, asking everyone to do the same.

At once, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

"Bagpipes?" Madeline muttered.

"Trust the process," Fred winked.

The Weird Sisters trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn, which Madeline could appreciate. They picked up their instruments, the Champions making their way to the now cleared area in the middle of the hall.

Seamus, Ron and Dean sniggered as they watched Harry badly waltz to the sound of a mournful tune, Parvati seemingly leading the dance. Krum and Hermione elegantly swept across the floor, her beauty far more apparent as her confidence grew. Cho and Cedric were rather attractive together, despite Cedric's dopey smile. And of course, Fleur and Theo were the best, elegantly moving across the floor with precision only they could muster, a delighted smile on Fleur's face.

Eventually, after some of the Professors had stood up to dance, Fred turned to Madeline.

"I don't suppose you're any good at dancing, are you?" Fred asked cheekily, extending his hand to Madeline.

Madeline looked at it for a moment before smirking, a mischievous glint in her eye "Oh, you have no idea."

She grabbed his hand, all but dragging him onto the dance floor, the first non-champion couple to step up. One of his hands landed on her waist, the other holding her other hand. Madeline mirrored this, with her hand on his shoulder as he began leading the dance. She pointedly ignored Daphne's cheers as they passed her, and instead focused on Fred.

"You're not bad," Madeline complimented in surprise, "Guess you only have two left feet when it comes to potions."

"Hey, I'm not that bad," Fred grinned, "We're not all blessed with a brilliant mind like yours, Bisset."

"Yes, well; you should be," Madeline replied, "And what's this I hear about Canary Custards?"

"Staple pieces those are. Perhaps you can help me alter the formula a little."

"How about Dog Digestives? I'd pay to see Malfoy sprout a tail and some ears."

Fred chuckled, spinning Madeline before reconnecting his hand to her waist. He raised his eyebrow, "You're quite _something_."

"Oh, what a compliment!"

"Seriously!"

"Actually, it's called being _fun,"_ she corrected him with a grin, "Did you know that _'fun'_ is my middle name, Freddie?"

"Really?" Fred smirked, moving to suddenly dip Madeline down. He held onto her waist, "How's this for fun?"

"Not bad," Madeline complimented as he pulled her back up, a flush on her cheeks. She noticed Ginny wincing frequently as Neville trod on her feet, only a few couples away. "So, Weasley. I have a question."

"Oh Merlin."

"Nothing bad!"

"And here I thought you liked me."

"Why did you ask _me_ to be your date?" Madeline interrupted, "I mean, it's probably not winning you any favours with your house."

Fred paused, "Because you're interesting, and far more brilliant than most people would ever hope to be. And… You're not half bad to look at, you know?"

"I'd hope so," Madeline rolled her eyes, the two switching arms as they began waltzing the other way.

"Why'd you say yes?"

Madeline was the one to pause this time. She considered it, and began grinning.

"Because if I said no, I wouldn't be able to do this."

Immediately, Madeline dipped him backwards, like he'd dipped her just moments before. A loud giggle escaped her mouth at his shock face, pulling him up once they'd caught the attention of their peers.

"Bloody hell," Fred grinned, "You might just be the death of me."

* * *

As the night went on, the Weird Sisters began playing much more upbeat songs. Madeline and Fred didn't leave the dance floor once, dancing wildly and exuberantly, as if they were at a rock concert. Sometimes, Fred would grab her by the waist or her hands and conduct her in a ridiculously dramatised waltz, crowds parting in fear of being knocked over by the ridiculous couple.

Madeline hadn't been this wild in… Well, _ever._ Even Fleur had looked at her incredulously when she'd caught her slipping her heels off. Fred's cheery optimism brought about an energy Madeline hadn't felt before. It made her want to get up and dance and enjoy her life, not for anyone else but herself.

And of course, Madeline hadn't missed the incredulous looks people had thrown them. Pansy had sneered at her with disgust more than once, and she could swear she'd seen Dean and Seamus snickering at the pair not long after. But truthfully, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

She wasn't sure how long it had been before they both admitted they probably needed a break. She'd spotted Hermione storming off not too long before, while Ron and Harry moped on the sides of the hall, both left with no dates.

However, the minute Fred spotted a red-haired Ministry Official making his way over to Ron and Harry, his eyes lit up with mischief akin to none Madeline had seen before.

"I've got to get George real quick while my brother is distracted," Fred admitted, gesturing to the man, "I'll come find you in a minute if that's alright?"

Madeline shrugged, "We don't need to spend every moment next to each other. It's fine, go spike the punch or whatever."

Fred grinned, signalling his brother over from the other side of the hall. He ducked to Madeline's ear, whispering;

"It's already spiked."

He winked at her before making his way to the corner of the hall, his brother in tow. Madeline could only stare at him with a fond smile, shaking her head to herself.

Madeline sighed, her heart beating far too fast at how close Fred had been to her face. She most definitely wasn't ready to unpack _that_. She looked around, spotting Theo and Daphne at the same table the Slytherins had been sat at earlier, both looking rather worn out from the dancing. She quickly rushed over, a smile stapled to her face.

"Well damn," Daphne complimented, taking in Madeline's blushing face, "You look like the cat who just got the cream."

"Gross, Greengrass," Madeline snorted, "How's it been?"

"Terence here has had a little too much punch," Daphne sighed, tapping the top of the table. It was only when Madeline looked down did she realise that a leg was poking out from underneath the tablecloth, clearly Terence.

"Sleeping?"

"Something like that," Daphne shrugged, "But I don't mind. Some of the Beauxbatons boys haven't stopped looking at me all night. I might just go make… Inter-school relationships."

"Go to bed," Theo rolled his eyes, turning to Madeline, "Fleur is with her friends. She's really… Interesting."

"That's not a good sign," Daphne sing-songed.

Theo shrugged, unbothered, "At least my date isn't passed out under the table."

"Touché," Daphne nodded, sipping her own glass of punch.

"Treat her well, Nott," Madeline scolded, but Theo's eyes were focused on something behind Madeline. He frowned.

"Why is your date accosting Ludo Bagman?" Theo asked. Madeline frowned, turning around.

True to his word, Madeline spotted Fred and George talking animated with Bagman, who also seemed to have had some of the special punch. The two Slytherins watched the twins have a short conversation with the man before hurrying off towards Ron and Harry. Madeline shrugged, turning to her friends.

"So, what's the deal with you two then?" Daphne asked suggestively, leaning forwards with her head perched between her hands, "Is it _true love?_ Soulmates? No, don't tell me; enemies to lovers."

"What- No," Madeline scoffed, crossing her arms, "Only because he asked me to the ball, doesn't mean it's going to go anywhere."

"It would be quite scandalous," Daphne wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Just as Madeline was about to answer with a witty retort, the loud sound of electric guitars being tuned interrupted the conversation, The Weird Sisters preparing for yet another upbeat rendition of their songs. Madeline smirked, looking at her two friends mischievously.

"Well? What are we waiting for?" Madeline asked, dragging Daphne and Theo up and towards the dance floor.

"Merlin help us," Theo muttered, but even he couldn't fight the smile off his face as the trio began dancing wildly to ' _Do The Hippogriff'_.

* * *

The night was drawing to a close, many couples sneaking off to partake in… Extra credit activities in the empty classrooms. Daphne had convinced some of the Slytherin Quidditch team to take Terence back to the dorms, Theodore walking Fleur back to the Beauxbatons carriage. Lee Jordan had also just so happened to have drunk far too much of the spiked punch, and the Weasley twins had taken it upon themselves to take their best friend to bed.

"I had a great night," Madeline replied sincerely when Fred had apologised for leaving early, "Don't worry about it. The Weird Sisters are back to ballads anyway."

And it was true. They'd been playing slow romantic songs for the last ten minutes, which left a lot of the students to clear out of the hall.

"In that case, would you fancy picking this back up in Hogsmeade after the break?" Fred asked cheekily, hands buried in his pockets and tie askew from the dancing.

Madeline looked at him in surprise. She'd had a good time with Fred, but his friends obvious distaste for her had made her doubt Fred's willingness to ever speak to her again. But once again, the red-haired boy had surprised her.

"Looks like its your lucky day, Weasley," Madeline grinned, a cheeky smirk sprouting on Fred's lips. However, the moment was ruined as Lee Jordan toppled over, catching himself on Fred's arm, "Or, maybe not."

"Come on mate," Fred encouraged as he swung Lee's arm around his shoulder, George doing the same to the other one.

"See you later Bisset!" George nodded, Fred simply winking at her as the two carted Lee out of the hall.

Daphne had been watching from just a few feet away, wasting no time rushing over to her friend the minute the boys had left.

"Not joining the big boys tonight?" Daphne asked cheekily, Madeline's face flushing red.

"Daphne!"

"I'm kidding, it's cute when you get embarrassed," Daphne laughed, "So, what's the verdict?"

Madeline paused and bit her lip, "Hogsmeade after the break."

Daphne grinned, "I knew it! Theo _so_ owes me!"

"You bet on us?!"

"And we bet on Granger and Krum," Daphne nodded, "She left the ball _ages ago_. Apparently Pansy saw her argue with Ron."

"Doesn't surprise me, the git has a way of getting on peoples nerves," Madeline shrugged.

Although the night was winding down, some of the Slytherin students still stayed in the hall, all sat around one table on the side of the room. Daphne and Madeline joined them, perching themselves on the edge of a nearby table.

Tracy Davis and her boyfriend, both of who hadn't drunk anything (thankfully), were sat on one side of the table with their hands tightly clasped, the picture-perfect couple. Pansy Parkinson had gone to bed after Draco had refused to dance with her, and even Theo had returned by the time Madeline and Daphne had sat down.

"Seriously, a Gryffindor?" one of the fifth-year girls had asked Madeline as they each sipped a cup of punch, but she'd just shrugged.

"He's nice, and not a half bad dancer," Madeline answered, raising a few eyebrows.

"And he's hot," Daphne finished for her with a decisive nod.

Draco scoffed, "Oh please. I saw you two dancing Bisset, and quite frankly, I couldn't tell which one of you was worse."

Madeline frowned. "Well Malfoy, you certainly wouldn't be able to call what you were doing the other day dancing," she snapped, a few of the Slytherins sniggering with her.

Before Madeline could bask in her witty reply, Madeline noticed something just behind Draco's shoulder. On the dance floor, amongst the few couples left awake, Seamus Finnigan and Lavender Brown were still swaying to the slow song the The Weird Sisters were playing. She smirked, and idea forming into her head.

Draco scoffed, "You-"

"Dance with me."

Daphne stared at her friend with wide eyes, Madeline staring directly into Draco's eyes. She tilted her head innocently, wide-eyed and a small grin on her face. Draco was shocked to say the least, as were the rest of the Slytherins.

"Excuse me-"

"Come on, get up then," Madeline pressed, standing up with her hands on her waist, "Prove me wrong."

"Have you gone mental?" Daphne hissed in amusement.

Draco and Madeline stared each other down, their icy glares making the room that little bit colder. Madeline had a grin on her face, but Draco held the same cold arrogant frown he always did. Eventually, he stood up, hands straightening his cuffs out as some of the Slytherins cheered.

"If you wanted to come to the ball with me Bisset, you could've just asked," Draco smirked, but Madeline ignored him, making her way to the dance floor as Daphne and Tracy loudly wolf-whistled.

She kept walking forwards until they were far enough away from their friends to not be heard. Madeline turned around, looking at Draco expectantly, "Alright; I need you to waltz me over towards Finnigan when I tell you to."

Draco huffed, "Bloody hell Bisset; one Gryffindor isn't enough for you?!"

"Shut up and do it," Madeline snapped, moving to place her hand on Draco's bicep as the other grabbed his left hand, "And actually _try_ not being terrible."

"Well aren't you _nice,"_ he sneered, "No wonder Weasley left the ball early."

"And I bet your face is the reason Pansy left early," Madeline snapped back, her eyes fixated on Seamus as the pair swayed awkwardly, Draco's hand as cold as ice compared to Madeline's warm one, "Alright, we need to go right."

Draco rolled his eyes but complied, the pair awkwardly waltzing to the right in a far less graceful manner than either ever had. Draco huffed.

"Can we at least do this properly?"

"Oh, so _you're_ asking me to dance now?"

"Shut up Bisset and hold my shoulder."

Madeline's eyebrow raised at Draco's tone, finally facing him. He adjusted his grip on her waist, guiding her gently as the two fell into an easy, elegant rhythm. Madeline was surprised at how easy it was, but then again, they both had years of practice. She stared at him for a few moments, because he really _was_ kind of pretty, but she quickly shook the thought away, looking over his shoulder to Seamus.

"So, how's Pansy?"

Draco scoffed, "Like you care."

"I wouldn't ask you if I didn't care."

"She's fine," Draco replied shortly.

"Doesn't look like _you_ care about your own girlfriend."

"That's because she isn't my girlfriend," Draco snapped, "Now, stop being annoying so I can spin you closer to Finnigan and get this over with."

Madeline wanted to snap back at Draco, but she couldn't find the words. Instead, she let him twirl her elegantly, now only a few meters away from the Gryffindor. However, when she looked at him again, something echoed at the back of her mind. Something that Draco had said to her in the first few weeks of the term;

_"Just wanted to make everyone very clear about where you came from, Dearborn."_

"How did you know my fathers last name?" Madeline asked him, Draco's gaze snapping to hers, "You called me Dearborn a few months ago."

Draco shrugged, looking away, "My father and your family have mutual friends. Doesn't speak very highly of your father, by the way."

"I wonder why," Madeline muttered to herself.

"You know it'll never work, right?"

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, "Excuse me?"

"You and Weasley," Draco continued, his gaze far away. Instead of his usual sneer, his face was void of emotion, "You have a family name to respect. Sure, the Weasley's are a pureblood family, but they're also blood traitors. You'd have to be mad to think something like that would ever work."

"Christ; you have a bleak view of the world."

"It's not bleak, its real."

"I'm not my family," Madeline shrugged calmly, because although she should be angry with what Draco had said, she wasn't. "I'm not going to equate my worth based on a name."

"A name makes you who you are."

"I _choose_ who I am, and right now…" Madeline paused, moving the hand that had been gripping Draco's bicep to her skirt. Between the layers of tulle, she pulled out her wand, having hidden it in a small concealed pocket before the ball, just in case. She pointed the tip of her wand towards Seamuses feet, casting a _Slippery Jinx_ onto his shoes.

Almost immediately, Seamus began slipping and sliding across the floor, shrieking. Lavender tried to let go of his hand, but his grip was too tight. Eventually, the both of them were on the floor in a pile, Seamus groaning as she landed on top of him.

"Right now, I'm a bloody legend," Madeline finished, letting go of Draco with a grin. She placed her hands on her waist, "I think it's time for me to get to bed."

"You think?" Malfoy smirked in amusement as he watched Seamus attempting to stand up.

"Night, Malfoy. Don't get your head lost in your own ass."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So the Yule Ball has finally taken place! (This chapter took AGES to write!)  
> I hate to be a beg, but...  
> If you have any thoughts, ideas etc about this fic, please please PLEASE leave them in the reviews/comments/DMS! I'd love to hear what you think!


	14. 13: Home, Sweet Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we finally get to see some of Madeline's home life!

**CHAPTER 13: Home, Sweet Home**

_**Italics ("Speech") = Spoken In French** _

As promised, Madeline arrived at her home in Grasse bright and early on boxing day, with just a small trunk in her hands for her short stay. She had taken the Hogwarts Express to Kings Cross, before taking a short tube journey to a tiny little French Cafe in Pimlico, which also happened to double as the location of a port key to an identical cafe in Grasse.

What many would never know was that Grasse was one of the most affluent places for wizards and witches in France. Being a Bisset, she was one of the few who knew of the easily accessible port keys, and how to find them. Her sudden apparition in the Grasse cafe was not a surprise for the cafe patrons, and let her out through the back to call for a carriage for herself.

Which left her outside the large mansion alone, with just her suitcase in hand.

She had lived in the Bisset mansion all her life. It was large and sophisticated, the 18th century structure surviving the test of time with beauty. The entrance, only visible to invited guests, would be found only if you dared duck between two curving trees, creating a fairytale-like passage.

Then, you would be greeted with deep cream stone steps. If you were to look up to your left, you'd find yourself looking at a rounded marble fence, which outlined the marbled patio of the home. At the top of the staircase, you'd be greeted with a large windowed door, it's frame painted with a muted green.

She didn't know why, but Madeline felt nervous. She was dressed in black jeans and a baggy knitted jumper, a black coat wrapped around her and her hair pulled in a loose ponytail. She most definitely didn't seem like the picture of aristocracy; she knew she should've worn one of the long velvet day-dress her grandmother had given her…

However, she didn't have much time to ponder before the face of her mother peered through the glass panels, a wide smile breaking on the womans face as she swung the door open.

And suddenly, everything felt right again.

"Darling!" Eloise Bisset smiled, enveloping Madeline in a warm hug, "Merry Christmas! And look at you! You must be freezing, come inside. Come on!"

"I'm fine, Mother," Madeline laughed, but let herself be dragged into the comfort of the warm French mansion.

Nothing had changed in the home. It was still as cold as it had been when she'd left, immaculately cleaned and perfectly decorated. The marble floors were polished to perfection, the entrance hall almost _too_ welcoming, the smell of freshly-baked pastries wafting towards her.

"Your uncle and aunt are arriving tomorrow, as are the rest of the family," Eloise explained, an edge to her voice Madeline understood, "And your grandmother is in her study. Oh, she's been anxious to see you!"

She'd missed her house, she really had. Well, maybe she'd missed her mother more than the large empty house. It was so different to the lively common rooms and bustling corridors of Hogwarts, and it almost shrouded her in a loneliness she thought she'd shaken off.

Madeline hung her coat up onto a nearby hook, her suitcase still held tightly in her hand. Her mother scanned her for a few moments, a tight smile on her face.

"Lunch is going to be ready in about an hour. Perhaps you could freshen up before lunch?"

And there it was; her mothers suggestion, which was much more of an order than anything else.

"And then you can tell us all about Hogwarts," Eloise added.

"Alright," Madeline nodded, a tight smile on her face echoing her mothers own, "I'm happy to be home, mum. You know that, right?"

Her mothers smile suddenly became warmer as she squeezed her daughters arm, "I'm happy to have you home, darling."

* * *

Madeline's room had barely been touched in her absence. The muted green painted walls were as bare as always, the bookshelves still filled with textbooks and novels. The large canopied double bed still bore the same creamy silk sheets, the dark wooden floor unchipped and perfectly polished. The only sign that anyone had been in the room was the open door to the ensuite bathroom, displaying a brand new set of green towels hanging on the sink.

Madeline placed her suitcase on her desk, which now only held a few quills. She began unpacking, placing Evie's book on her shelf and her clothes in her wardrobe. It was weird to be unpacking in her own room. She felt like a stranger in a world she'd always lived in, but she knew the feeling would go away sooner or later.

She had a quick shower before sitting at her vanity, applying a light dash of makeup, something she'd fallen out of habit with. In Hogwarts, she hadn't had the time to do so every morning. She made sure her hair was sleek and straight, falling around her shoulders as it always did. It had grown a little longer during her time away; her grandmother would be pleased. It had always been a struggle to keep it a nice long length.

She decided to dress in the long muted green dress her grandmother had given her (the Bisset favourite colour, clearly), with small golden dangling earrings and the necklace her mother had given her. The dress hung with no defined shape down to her calves, the bottom decorated with a single ruffled hem. She slipped into sleek golden strapped slippers with low heels, the absolute epitome of obnoxious wealth.

Looking around the room, she couldn't help but silently judge herself for not having seen how ridiculously privileged the Bissets were. She was wearing _golden slippers_ for Merlin's sake! Not to mention the grounds; they owned fields upon fields surrounding the mansion, and what would they ever use them for?

Madeline decided to make her way back down to the dining room, knowing better than to be late for a lunch with her grandmother. It may be the holidays, but Alodie Bisset tolerated lateness from no one.

Madeline stepped into the dining room hesitantly, the chatter between the two elder women dying down. As always, Alodie Bisset was seated at the top of the table, Eloise the next seat down, and Madeline would sit in the seat across from her.

 _"Ma petite fille,"_ her grandmother greeted warmly as she spotter her, standing up with her arms outstretched, _"Come here, my darling!"_

Madeline smiled, quickly walking over to her grandmother and enveloping her in an airy hug. The two pulled apart with a quick kiss on the cheek, her grandmother holding her arms as she studied her.

 _"My my, you look beautiful,"_ her grandmother complimented, " _Although those pesky freckles are back… But none the matter! Sit, sit!"_

Madeline smiled politely, moving to sit across from her mother. " _How have you been?"_ she asked the two women.

 _"Oh, nothings changed,"_ her grandmother mused as the house chef entered the room, two silver platters filled with small sandwiches placed between the women, _"But I'm sure you've been on all sorts of adventures! But do tell me; how are your studies?"_

_"They're fine, grandmother. I'm the top of my class for Potions, actually."_

_"Really?"_ Alodie gushed, using pincers to pick up a couple of the sandwiches for her plate. Madeline and Eloise did the same, _"But again, I wouldn't have expected any less! Now, tell me; a Slytherin? What exactly_ is _that?"_

Madeline nodded, thanking the chef as he filled their goblets with fresh spring water, _"Hogwarts sorts every student into one of four houses. Each house values different traits, and Slytherins value ambition, leadership, self-preservation, cunning and resourcefulness. Each house had its own dormitory and common room."_

 _"How… Cute,"_ Alodie nodded along, _"Are there many high-class families in Slytherin?"_

 _"A few,"_ Madeline nodded stiffly, _"Do you know of the Greengrass and the Nott families?"_

 _"Oh yes, excellent families!"_ her grandmother clapped her hands, _"Your mother did say you'd befriended them; well done!"_

 _"Thank you,"_ Madeline took the compliment hesitantly.

 _"It's extremely important you keep contacts like that for the future. You know, you'll be sixteen before you know it!"_ her grandmother continued, Madeline tensing.

Turning sixteen meant one thing and one thing only in the Bisset family;

_Head of the Family._

It was a concept that had been danced around her whole life. There had always been a chance her mother would have remarried and had a son, meaning Madeline would be exempt from the tradition, but the concept had been dashed years ago. It had remained unspoken, but suggested lightly by her grandmother and extended family, like she had now.

Her uncle was currently the head of the Bisset family, and her grandmother wanted _her_ to take over for him when she was of age, which was only a few short years away. Her grandmother had pushed for her to find a husband early in life, so to secure an heir she'd approve of.

They'd never spoken about these arrangements out loud, but Madeline had assumed that it had been on the cards since she was young. But with her grandmother speaking so openly about it, with a clean undertone of confidence, a sinking feeling fell onto Madeline.

She looked at her mother, who barely touched the sandwiches, keeping her eyes on her glass.

 _"I'm still young,"_ Madeline pointed out, _"Uncle Claude doesn't need to step down for years-"_

 _"Better get you ready early,"_ her grandmother reminded her, _"But enough family talk. Tell me Madeline, how are your other classes?"_

Suddenly, Madeline was no longer hungry.

* * *

Lunch and dinner were tense events, with her grandmothers overbearing nature and her mothers tentative one.

Madeline had been sat on the outside patio with Evie's muggle book and a glass of cold juice after dinner, lit only by the few golden lanterns outside. A blanket was draped on her lap, yet the biting December chill still taunted her. She was tempted to slip back inside and grab another blanket, but before she could even get up, her mother stepped out of the side door and onto the patio, a warm fluffy blanket in her hands.

Madeline said nothing as her mother perched herself in the chair just to her left, the blanket remaining folded in her hands. Neither woman dared to speak for a few quiet minutes, the only sound in the winter night coming from Madeline turning the pages.

Surprisingly, Madeline was the first to break the silence.

"I'm going to be the next Head of the Family, aren't I?" Madeline asked plainly, not lifting her eyes from the book.

Eloise Bisset remained quiet.

"I was a fool," Madeline sighed, leaning back in her seat and gazing up to the stars, "I just spent _months_ away from home thinking I could escape _this."_

" _This_ shouldn't be something you need to escape," Eloise didn't meet her daughters eyes. Instead, she too looked up to the stars, "It's a great honour, you know."

"You would be the ' _Head of the Family'_ if you hadn't married dad," Madeline stated, words that had remained unspoken between the two for far too many years, "You had a choice. But it looks like I don't."

Eloise paused, the silence enveloping the two girls. Eloise smiled softly up to the night.

"I will never regret you or your father. No amount of power or wealth could make me. I know you believe you have power over love, but I promise you I didn't," the woman replied, "I'm sorry that you have no choice, but sometimes paths are laid out for us for a reason."

"I'm not going to amount to just being a Bisset."

"Then don't," her mother finished with a smile, handing her the blanket as she stood up, "But you should hear your grandmother and your uncle out before you make any choices you might regret."

With that, Eloise left.

Madeline all but collapsed onto her bed that evening, falling asleep almost instantly. Her mind was flurried with thoughts of what her family had told her.

And, for the first time in months, she remembered what it was like to truly be a Bisset.

* * *

She woke up early the next morning; the twenty-seventh, when her relatives would be coming to celebrate christmas with them. She had yet another shower, dressing herself in a luxurious red velvet dress, much like the one she'd worn the day before, except this one fell just above her knees and bore some extra thrills. Of course, nothing eccentric. She slipped into some heeled winter boots and cast a quick charm on her hair to curl it softly.

With her makeup charmed on in an instant, she quickly dashed downstairs to help with any decorations or preparations. She doubted she would be needed really, with her grandmothers persistence on having the mansion staffed for the day, but she figured it would be much better to show her face nice and early. Perhaps it would earn her some favourable points with her relatives.

And thankfully she had, for her uncle and aunt had arrived early, standing in the entrance hall with her mother.

Now, Madeline knew her mother and grandmother could be… Intense, but her aunt and uncle were a _far_ different story.

Her aunt Isabelle was a beautiful blonde-haired pureblooded woman, the only one left of her family line. The little family she'd had left had died following her marriage to Madeline's uncle, leaving her as the only heir to her family fortune, and the last to be able to carry on her legacy. Unfortunately, the pair never had children, leaving her to be her husbands trophy wife for the Bisset empire.

Her uncle was the current head of the Bisset family. He'd been the father figure in her life, or as much as he could be whilst living hours away. Claude Bisset was a stern, unsettling man, with a grin akin only to someone who had all the power in the world. In fact, he probably was one of the most powerful wizards in the French Wizarding World, not by magic, but by the power he held as the head of such an important family.

And her grandmother wanted her to follow in his footsteps.

 _"There she is,"_ her uncle greeted her warmly, dressed in a shiny black suit. He opened his arms with a smile, and she quickly rushed into the hug.

Madeline hugged him and her aunt quickly, standing with her mother perfectly poised, her hands clasped together in front of her, "It's so good to see you both!"

 _"I'm glad you could make it back for the holidays,"_ her aunt answered in French, _"We heard about the Tournament, and-"_

 _"Isabelle here was worried for her favourite niece,"_ her uncle finished for her, a smirk on his face, _"Now, I believe we have presents to open? I wouldn't want to keep your grandmother waiting!"_

* * *

The small family sat formally around the living room fireplace, each with steaming hot cups of hot chocolate directly imported from Belgium. Although the fire was lit, the room felt cold, as it would every christmas. The charmed grand piano in the corner of the living room played the softest christmas melodies as the family chatted.

Presents had been exchanged quickly. Madeline had received a beautiful green scarf, new dresses, and far more jewellery she could ever wear. Her own presents hadn't been extravagant, but did include a rather nice bracelet for her mother.

The conversations fluctuated between Madeline's stay in Hogwarts, her uncles newest land purchase, and her grandmothers new fondness for Swedish food. It didn't feel particularly christmassy, but Madeline couldn't exactly expect any different. She listened politely and added her own comments when deemed appropriate, but eventually, the conversation grew more serious, turning to the one subject she had hoped to avoid.

 _"So Madeline,"_ her uncle began, pointedly placing his mug onto the marble coffee table, _"Although I hate to burden the holidays with business talk, I believe you're old enough to know what your future holds."_

Madeline said nothing. She held her head up high, waiting for him to continue.

 _"In the summer, I will be heading a rather important meeting with other important families,"_ her uncle continued vaguely, _"In which, I will be announcing you as the future head of the family."_

_"Without consulting me?"_

Her uncle frowned, turning to her mother, _"Have you not discussed this with her?"_

 _"Perhaps you should discuss it with me. Directly,"_ Madeline interrupted, her uncle turning back to her.

 _"Very well,"_ he sighed, turning to look at Eloise and Isabelle. The two women looked at each other before standing up, making their way out of the room, leaving Madeline alone with her uncle and her grandmother.

There was a tense silence in the air as Madeline sipped on her mug, the piano almost mocking in it's slightly jolly tune.

 _"Madeline; you are the only heir,"_ her uncle began, standing up and moving to the fireplace. He gazed at the small amount of family pictures on the mantelpiece, _"Sure, we have other relatives that would jump to the opportunity, but no one is more pureblooded than you. It is your destiny."_

 _"I understand that, but I also believe that we can choose our destiny,"_ Madeline answered primly, _"I'm not saying I don't want to be the Head of the Family, but I'm too young to be thinking about it-"_

 _"On the contrary my dear,"_ her grandmother smiled, _"Your grandfather was sixteen when he took over, and your uncle was twenty. You'll be absolutely fine."_

 _"Something is coming Madeline,"_ her uncle interrupted, his gaze still on the mantelpiece, _"Something I'm sure your own mother is aware of, otherwise she wouldn't have sent you away."_

_"Are you suggesting I don't go back to Hogwarts?"_

_"On the contrary; the people you meet there may be of great use in the future,"_ her uncle replied. Madeline felt chills as he casually suggested she _used_ people, _"But we will need you to be ready to take over when the time is right."_

 _"And what exactly does it mean to 'take over'?"_ Madeline asked.

_"It means you'll be representing the entire family in meetings and events-"_

_"But what are these meetings?!"_ Madeline interrupted, _"Because there seems to be an awful lot of secrecy around something I'm supposed to swear my whole life to."_

 _"Everything will be revealed when you turn sixteen, I promise you,"_ her grandma interjected, trying to calm the situation down, _"There are things happening in our communities that you need not to worry yourself with yet, my darling. But we also want to-"_

 _"We need you to agree to take over,"_ her uncle continued, _"I need to present you as such in a meeting this summer. You won't be needed in attendance, don't worry. It is vital to the longevity of our bloodline-"_

 _"I'm a person,"_ Madeline interrupted calmly, _"I am a young woman with dreams and desires. I am not going to let anyone amount me to just a family name."_

 _"Oh darling,"_ her uncle continued, a smirk on his face as he turned to her, _"Who said you couldn't be both?"_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"The Bisset name and fortune will get you into any room you want, into any career you wish for,"_ her uncle spoke, clearly from experience, _"But that's exactly what it will be able to choose your own path. You could do great things, Madeline, if you decide to."_

Madeline paused, thinking. That's what she wanted, wasn't it? _To be great?_

She thought back to that fateful day in the Great Hall, when she'd been sorted into Slytherin. She could've chosen Gryffindor, she _knew_ that, but Gryffindor would make her safe. _Not_ great. And she had chosen Slytherin to _be_ great.

The cunning, ambitious side of her screamed to take the offer. Her ambition had been carefully cultivated by her mother, pushing her to strive for things others may never even dream of. Her heritage and ancestors had designed a life for her that would lead to _this._ She didn't know what she wanted to do when she was older, but she knew she didn't want to just equate her worth to her family name, because it _wasn't fair._

And thats what was casting doubt into her mind; fairness. Being a good person. She had seen first hand what power did to people; she'd seen it with Malfoy for Merlins sake! She didn't want to become a spoilt, arrogant, aristocratic woman. She wanted to be admired, but fear didn't equate to admiration.

And yet, at the end of the day, she was still a Slytherin. She was still cunning, still ambitious, and forever self-preserving.

 _"I'll do it,"_ she finally announced, looking at her uncle fearlessly, _"When the time comes, I'll take over."_

_"Excellent! We knew you'd-"_

_"But,"_ Madeline interrupted, her jaw set and her eyes gleaming with fire; the image of a powerful woman, _"I want to finish my studies through to the end of my school years in Hogwarts."_

 _"That can be arranged,"_ her grandmother agreed.

 _"And although I understand that as the only heir I need to marry into a good family, I will fall in love on my own terms,"_ Madeline concluded, her gaze set firmly on her grandmother.

The elder woman pursed her lips tightly, but nodded with finality, _"It's settled then."_

Madeline felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realised that she'd left Hogwarts to come home, but perhaps the place she called home was where the real snakes truly lay.

* * *

Christmas dinner was a far more festive event, Madeline even managing to crack a few smiles and laughs as her family spoke about past adventures and balls. Food was served and eaten until the late evening hours, Eloise Bisset insisting on the house staff to be sent home for the evening as to allow them to see their own families.

Which left Madeline to offer to take the dishes to the kitchen, finally giving her a few minutes of peace and quiet.

_I'm going to be the Head of the Family._

Those words kept ringing in Madeline's ears. She knew something was coming, because her _mother_ had known something was coming _months ago_. And to be in such a position of power most likely would mean she would have to face _it_ eventually. She would be thrown into the deep end the moment her uncle stepped down, and there was no way out.

_"What's up, kiddo?"_

Madeline turned to find her aunt also carrying dishes to the sink, the laughter ringing from the dining hall seeming far, far away. Her aunt held a kind smile on her face, placing the dishes elegantly by the kitchen sink.

" _Nothing,"_ Madeline lied, _"Holiday fatigue, you know?"_

_"Seems to me more like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders."_

Her aunt leant against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a dark pink blouse and a dark green midi pencil skirt, with pink and gold embroidery covering the majority of it. She was the picture perfect aristocratic woman, something Madeline was destined to become.

 _"It's all real now, isn't it?"_ Madeline sighed, closing her eyes.

 _"Perhaps it is,"_ her aunt replied, a far away look in her eyes, _"You know… Whenever I see you smile or laugh, it reminds me so much of your father."_

Madeline opened her eyes, looking at her aunt curiously, _"I didn't realise you knew him well."_

Her aunt smiled, _"I went to school with him before I came to work in France. Granted, I was a Slytherin, and a few years older than him, but he was a cracking Quidditch player and had a brilliant mind."_

 _"So I've heard,"_ Madeline smiled, turning to look out of the window and onto the dark grounds of the mansion.

How different would her life be if she was a Dearborn, and not a Bisset?

_"Something is coming."_

Madeline snapped her head round to her aunt as she uttered the statement, _"What?"_

 _"Something dark is coming,"_ her aunt repeated, the same faraway look in her eyes, _"Claude knows that. And I believe your mother has her suspicions too. When it comes to judgement day, women like us need to know how to take care of ourselves."_

Isabelle Bisset took her wand out of her sleeve, waving it once over the dishes as they began to clean and dry themselves. Her eyes met Madeline's, a fire burning in them that had been concealed for far too long.

_"No one has taught you how to duel, have they?"_

_"Well, no. Not really."_

_"Well then you better visit me this summer,"_ her aunt winked.

The wand was returned to her sleeve. The woman spun on her heel, and elegantly walked out of the room, as if she hadn't just opened a whole new world for her niece.

* * *

Madeline, Eloise and Isabelle busied themselves inside the home as Claude and Alodie Bisset made their way to the patio, both with thin cigarettes between their fingers.

Shrouded in thick coats, the pair closed the glass doors of the mansion behind them, casting a silencing charm on the door and stepping into the cold darkness of the night.

 _"She's young,"_ Alodie began, lighting the cigarettes with a wandless incantation, _"Barely more than a child."_

Claude took a long drag of the cigarette, breathing the smoke out softly, _"A pity, for someone so young. But it must be done."_

Alodie nodded in agreement, _"The Dark Lord will be pleased with her, I'm sure."_

 _"She holds the most important key to his victory, perhaps even more important than that Potter boy,"_ Claude continued, scoffing, _"Caradoc must be turning in his grave knowing his sacrifice has become her downfall."_

 _"Careful of your words Claude,"_ Alodie reprimanded her son, _"We do not speak ill of the dead, even traitors like Caradoc. He got what was coming to him, and soon so will Madeline. No need to cast more ill will onto him."_

Claude smirked, tapping his cigarette, _"We must play the waiting game mother. It is only a matter of time before the pieces start falling into place."_

Alodie smiled, taking a drag of the cigarette.

_"You always were my favourite."_


	15. 14: Boggarts and Bissets

**CHAPTER 14: Boggarts and Bissets**

Madeline's home visit had been short and sweet. She returned to Hogwarts only a few days after new years eve, taking the Hogwarts express with the younger years who hadn't been allowed to attend the ball.

The train had been a flurry of excited chatter. She sat herself with Evie Sterling, the young girl excitedly telling her all about her muggle christmas. Being a muggleborn Slytherin, young Evie often found herself hiding her family life away from the more judgemental Slytherin, such as Malfoy. But a lot of the older Slytherins, like Madeline and Tracy, allowed her to talk about anything and everything muggle-related that her heart desired. And they loved listening to it.

To be honest, Madeline found it _incredible_ to hear about the muggle world. Books and novels were one thing, but Evie's stories truly made Madeline want to spend a day as a muggle and see what the world was like. To be able to leave the wizarding world behind and just be an anonymous face in a crowd of thousands.

They continued chatting as they walked from the Hogsmeade station all the way to the castle, passing the Durmstrang boat still floating on the freezing lake. The Beauxbatons carriage seemed to glow from the inside as they passed it's curtained windows, laughter twinkling out of it.

The large group of young students stepped into the Entrance Hall gleefully, rushing to find their friends for their last few days of freedom before the beginning of the new term. Even little Evie Sterling all but ran towards the Slytherin Dungeons, but Madeline took her time, relishing the feeling of coming back to Hogwarts.

Home had become an abstract concept in the last few days. Certainly, Grasse was home, but Hogwarts held a special place in her heart even over the short few months she'd been there. It was much warmer than her home, something she didn't truly appreciate until her return.

"Bisset!"

Madeline looked up to find none other than Cedric Diggory rushing over to her, clad in a baggy jumper and black jeans. The disheveled Hufflepuff prince rushed to the girl with a smile on his face, embracing her in a tight side-hug.

"Nice to see you too, Diggory," Madeline laughed. She hadn't spent a lot of time with the boy before the ball, and although the two were an unlikely pair, Madeline had missed him.

"You look… Different," Cedric observed as he pulled away from her, "Not a bad different! You look good!"

And Madeline knew he was right. She was dressed in a silky cream milkmaid blouse and a long black chiffon skirt, revealing just the slightest slither of her ankle between the hem and the top of her heeled black winter ankle boots. Her hair was sleek and loose, the outfit completed with the same black coat she'd left Hogwarts with.

She'd seen herself in the mirror after her mother had given her the outfit. In Grasse, she looked like her normal aristocratic self, but in Hogwarts, she looked _different._ As if her clothes bore her own knowledge of the path waiting for her.

Madeline simply rolled her eyes lightheartedly at the boy, nudging him playfully, "If that's how you talk to women, Diggory, then I'm surprised you even got a date to the Yule Ball."

Cedric flustered at her mention of the ball, but quickly composed himself, "Looks like we have some catching up to do."

"Indeed we do," Madeline laughed, picking up her suitcase and gesturing dramatically to the Great Hall, "After you, Diggory."

* * *

"…And then I asked her," Cedric finished describing how he'd managed to go to the ball with Cho Chang, "I thought she was going to say no at first, but she's really, really great. You know?"

"No, I wouldn't know," Madeline shrugged, sipping on her mug of coffee at the Hufflepuff table. Term didn't resume for a few more days, meaning the Great Hall was sparsely littered with small groups of friends, the house colours and tables foregone for the meantime. No one paid them a second glance, "I've never met the girl."

"She's really sweet," Cedric began gushing immediately, "And really smart too, but I suppose that's why she's in Ravenclaw."

"Great observations there Diggory."

"So what about you?" Cedric continued with a grin, "How's things with the Weasley?"

Madeline bit her lip, "Whatever do you mean?"

"You went to the ball together," Cedric smirked, "So… When's the wedding?"

"Shut up!" Madeline scoffed, a playful smirk on her face, "He's lovely, really. And he's not bad-looking either."

"And again, I ask; wedding?"

Madeline thought about her uncle and her grandmother. She was going to be thrown in a whole different world sooner or later, and it wouldn't be fair to drag someone else into that world without their consent, especially when _she_ didn't know what she was up against herself. But then again, it was also a little ridiculous to be thinking so far into the future. Maybe her and Fred would work out, maybe not.

Going to a ball together isn't exactly a contract for marriage, Diggory," Madeline sighed, "He's invited me to Hogsmeade, but I don't know. I mean; a Slytherin with a _Weasley_?"

"You don't usually care about things like that."

"I don't, but he might."

"He was the one to ask _you_ to the ball, was he not?" Cedric asked, " _So,_ I think you should give it a shot. Go for a drink and see if theres a spark."

Madeline scoffed, "You sound like one of those cliche romance novels."

"Was there a spark at the Yule Ball?"

Madeline paused, "We had fun. He really… Brought something new out in me, you know?"

"There you go then," Cedric nodded, "Go to Hogsmeade with him, and don't overthink it."

The Slytherin smiled, "You know, you're not half bad at giving advice."

"Yeah well, apparently I'm _very bad_ at being a Champion," Cedric admitted, lowering his voice, "I still haven't figured out the egg."

"You still have until February, don't you?"

"Yeah, but time is running out," Cedric sighed, "It just keeps _shrieking_ every time I open it."

Madeline shivered, remembering the horrible racket the egg had made in the Gryffindor common room, "Yeah, I wouldn't want to be you."

"Cheers."

"No worries."

"I just can't figure out what it means," Cedric continued, "I mean, it must be making that noise for a reason."

"Maybe you just can't understand it," Madeline shrugged, "Like, if I started speaking French, you wouldn't be able to understand what I was saying without a translator or one of those Linguistic Charms. Or… Like a Mandrake. It shrieks and cries when you pick one, right? We don't understand what its saying, but it's clearly upset."

Cedric stared at Madeline for a few moments, as if all the puzzle pieces had finally clicked into place. His eyes went wide, a grin spreading on his face.

"You are a genius," Cedric announced, standing up hastily, "I need to go try something. But seriously; if this works, I'll owe you one."

"No worries?" Madeline repeated in confusion, "But what did you-"

"I'll see you at dinner!" Cedric called, rushing out of the Great Hall hastily.

Madeline frowned. _What the hell?_

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, the anxiously awaited Madeline Bisset is back!" Daphne exclaimed dramatically from her position on the Slytherin sofas the minute she spotted her friend walking into the Common Room.

"And with a new wardrobe, too," Tracy Davis observed, Madeline rolling her eyes at her friends antics, "Looking good, Bisset."

"Glad to see nothing's changed," Madeline observed as she sat herself down next to Theo, on the opposite sofa to Daphne, who seemed to be scribbling away on a parchment, clearly trying to finish her Christmas homework.

"Madeline, you have absolutely _no idea_ how much I want to grill you for details from the Yule Ball. Seriously, I'd love nothing more," Daphne began, scribbling wildly on her parchment, "But right now; Charms is absolutely kicking my ass."

Madeline turned to Theodore, "Are we going to help her?"

"Nope."

"I don't need help," Daphne shrugged, "I can do this _without_ Notts smugness, thank you very much."

Theo looked at Madeline with a knowing gaze, going back to his book, "How were your holidays?"

Madeline shrugged nonchalantly, a tenseness to her posture, "It was good."

"Wow, you seem on a festive high."

"Shut up," Madeline laughed, "Seriously, it was really good. I didn't realise how much I'd missed my mother, you know?"

"But you're glad to be back," Daphne chimed in as she started unravelling another piece of parchment.

Madeline smiled, looking around the dungeon with fondness growing in her heart, "Yeah, I'm glad to be back."

* * *

The beginning of the new term came with a flurry of cold snow and winds.

The snow sat thickly upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that they couldn't see out of them in Herbology. The Slytherin Dungeons had become especially chilly, frost outlining the outside of the lake windows. Madeline almost felt sorry for the creatures that might live in the lake, bracing the cold weather underwater.

Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather. Madeline walked to the lesson with Theo and Daphne tightly on either side of her, the trio trying to keep warm.

"Bloody hell," Daphne sniffed, rubbing her gloved hands together, "You'd think Hagrid would have us doing theory with this weather."

Madeline snorted, her new green scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, "When has Hagrid done something by the book?"

When they eventually walked (or more so waddled through the snow) to Hagrid's cabin, they did not find the burly man. Instead, they found an elderly witch with closely cropped grey hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.

"Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago," she barked at them as the Gryffindors and Slytherins struggled toward her through the snow.

"Who're you?" Ron Weasley asked from the front of the small group of students, "Where's Hagrid?"

"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," she said briskly, ignoring Madeline's snort at her name, "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"Grubby-Plank," Madeline whispered to Daphne, who barely stifled a set of giggles.

"This is what Draco was talking about at breakfast," Theodore whispered to the two. Madeline frowned.

"What was he talking about?"

"Didn't you listen?"

"I never listen to that git. Barely has anything interesting to say," Madeline shrugged, turning her attention back to the new Professor.

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry Potter repeated loudly. He definitely hadn't lost his unique way with words over the break.

"He is indisposed," the new Professor replied shortly.

Unpleasant laughter reached Madeline's ears, and of course, it came from none other than Draco Malfoy himself. Harry turned; glaring as Draco and his goons joined the class. Looking around, Madeline realised that the majority of the Slytherins didn't seem particularly surprised to see Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"This way, please," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she strode off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering.

Madeline, Theo and Daphne followed the teacher, lagging behind the Gryffindors as they waddled together. They watched as Harry continued to ask the Professor questions, but with no answers.

The group walked towards the forest, and much to Madeline's surprise, none other than a large and beautiful _unicorn_ was tethered to one of the trees on the edge of the forest.

"Oh it's so beautiful!" Lavender Brown exclaimed, lowering her voice, "How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!"

The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look grey. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head. Madeline was transfixed, she had never seen such a creature so up close.

"Boys keep back!" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank suddenly, causing Theo to jump back in fear, "They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care."

"Suits me," Theo huffed, immediately backing away.

Madeline and Daphne followed the group of girls behind Professor Grubbly-Plank, staying behind the Gryffindor girls.

"I can't believe Malfoy," Daphne sighed, "I didn't think he'd go as far as to take an interview with Rita Skeeter."

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, "What?"

"You really didn't listen at breakfast, did you?" Daphne rolled her eyes, "Rita Skeeter published an article criticising Dumbledore for hiring Hagrid, and she had quotes from Malfoy and Crabbe. Also, she revealed that he's a half-giant! Can you believe that?!"

"Hagrid is nothing like the giants we're taught about," Madeline furrowed her eyebrows.

Before Daphne could add anything else, the new Professor interrupted them.

"Are you paying attention over there?"

"Yes ma'am," Daphne nodded politely, the two girls turning their attention to the unicorn.

Madeline and Daphne stayed silent as the carefully stroked the unicorn, but Madeline's gaze floated over to the boys. It seemed that the news had been broken to the Gryffindors too, as they all clustered around an unfolded piece of newspaper.

Draco and his goons stood by the boys smugly, clearly pleased with themselves. Madeline frowned; it didn't particularly sit right with her that Hagrid was a half-giant, sure. She's read far too many history books for the news not to be a _little_ concerning. However, she was _certain_ he didn't have the ability to hurt a fly, let alone carry out any horrible rumours Rita Skeeter might be spreading about him.

Madeline could never see herself becoming someone like Malfoy. He was cruel and wicked, and she didn't want to be that, regardless of Head of the Family or not.

* * *

As it had been from the beginning of the year, Madeline still sat by Neville in Defence Against the Dark Arts. He seemed to be a lot more relaxed around her, but the two would still rarely talk, and if they did, it would usually be one-sided from Madeline. She hadn't seen him terrified out of his wits for quite some time, which was definitely an improvement. But then again, they had just had a Christmas break.

It was their first day back in DADA, their final lesson for the day, and much like other Professors, Madeline had expected Moody to ease back into the subject with a nice, relaxing lesson on theory.

That all vanished when Moody strolled into the class, going straight to the large cloak-covered structure he'd set up in front of his desk.

He pulled away the cloak with a flourish, revealing the large wooden wardrobe, it's doors adorned with cracked mirrors. A couple of students gasped, Neville clutching the desk exactly like he had when they'd been taught about the unforgivable curses. Madeline was simply confused.

"Boggarts," Moody spoke gruffly, "I'm aware you covered them last year with Professor Lupin, but Dumbledore has assured me that not everyone got a hand at them. We managed to catch another one during the break. So, get your wands out and move the desks. You won't need your books."

Madeline raised her eyebrow in interest. She'd read about Boggarts before, but she never thought she'd have to face one herself. Her family mansion in France had been equip with books covering any and all subjects in the Wizarding World, but practical studies were always a little… Tricky. Especially with her mothers overbearing need to keep her only daughter safe at all times.

"Line up, one by one," Moody ordered as everyone pushed the desks to the side of the room. Moody pointed at Daphne, the first to come back to the centre of the room, "Greengrass, you first."

"Bloody hell… Wish me luck," Daphne muttered sarcastically as she passed Madeline and Theo, both who had found themselves in the middle of the queue.

"Because there are so many of you, we have the advantage. The Boggart won't know what to change into until you step forwards, and even then, it'll be confused," Moody explained as Daphne stepped forwards, "So, I trust you all know what to do?"

"Riddikulus," Hermione called from behind Madeline. Moody nodded.

"Every single one of you fears _something_ ," Moody continued darkly, his wooden leg clacking against the floor loudly as he paced, "If you laugh in the face of fear, you'll be twice as powerful a wizard as one who can't."

"Inspiring," Madeline mused sarcastically in Theo's ear.

"Alright Greengrass; I'm going to open the wardrobe," Moody explained, making his way to the mirrored door, "Cast the Riddikulus charm as soon as you can. Then the next person moves forwards. Got that?"

Everyone nodded exuberantly, Neville quietly practicing his wand motion by his side. Madeline watched him closely, taking her own wand out of her pocket and copying him. She wasn't about to be publicly embarrassed for not knowing a third-year spell, thank you very much.

"Let's start," Moody gruffly announced, hand on the wardrobe knob, "Ready?"

"Bring it," Daphne joked, although her friends could tell she was nervous.

Moody swung the wardrobe door open, everyone holding their breath as they waited for the terrifying creature to manifest itself. Madeline couldn't begin to imagine what Daphne could be afraid of. She was strong and fearless, albeit sometimes dramatic, but nothing could possibly-

"It's a… Dog?" Madeline breathed, eyes wide.

In front of Daphne, the Boggart had turned into a ferocious golden retriever, which really wasn't too scary to the majority of the class. To Daphne, it was _terrifying._

"A dog Greengrass? Really?" Malfoy laughed from the back of the classroom, the entire class echoing the giggles.

"They act cute but they can rip your throat out," Daphne snapped, eyes remaining on the Boggart. She lifted her wand, _"Riddikulus!"_

The Boggart immediately transformed into a small, docile little kitten, with paws twice the size of its body. Everyone laughed and cooed as the kitten tripped and slipped around, Daphne grinning. She spun on her heels, stalking past the queue of students to the back of the room.

"And that's," she began as she passed her two friends, twirling her wand in her hands, "How it's done."

Theo rolled his eyes as the next person stepped up; Parvati Patil. The Boggart immediately turned into a bandaged mummy, but with a quick whip of her wand, the Boggart tripped on it's own bandages, falling flat on the floor.

Next was Hermione. The Boggart turned into Professor McGonagall informing her of her failed exams. The Gryffindors particularly found it funny, but Hermione's _Riddikulus_ was quick, the Boggart turning into Professor McGonagall giving her an award for best student. Neville followed, his boggart predictably turning into Snape.

Madeline watched in amusement as her peers faced their so-called _'worst fear'._ To be frank, Madeline didn't know what hers was. Sure; she wasn't exactly a fan of spiders, and the thought of drowning sent shivers up her spine, but none of those were particularly blood-curling fears. They were normal, rational fears to have.

And so, right after Theodore had faced his fear of claustrophobia, Madeline stepped up in front of the Boggart, which currently resembled a rather lovely fern. However, the moment Madeline stepped forwards, the Boggart immediately started changing…

Turning into a floor-length mirror.

"Pretty vein of you, isn't it Bisset?" Draco called from the back, earning himself quite a few snickers from his goons and Pansy.

But Madeline paid no attention to him. She was frozen, watching her own reflection in horror.

Her reflection was dressed exactly like her. In fact, it probably looked like her fear _was_ a mirror to everyone in the class. But in reality, the minute she saw herself with such a proud and arrogant look on her face, she knew _exactly_ what the Boggart had turned to.

As many would say; curiosity killed the cat. Madeline shakily reached for her sleeve, pulling up the cuff of her robe over her elbow.

And as she suspected, the Dark Mark resided tattooed on her forearm.

Before anyone could see, Madeline pointed her wand at the Boggart, " _Riddikulus_!"

At once, the Boggart shifted into a funhouse mirror, with a red curled frame and a morphing mirror, reflecting a version of Madeline dressed as a clown. A few snickers echoed through the classroom, but Madeline would be foolish to believe that no one had seen what the Boggart had _truly_ turned into.

The minute the class ended, Madeline stormed out and as far away from the room as possible.

* * *

Madeline didn't know how long she'd been in the windowed alcove of the corridor, sat on the cold stone bench. Hell, she didn't even know what floor she was on, which wasn't too much of a problem when the directions for her common room would always be _'keep going down until it's dark and damp'._

She had been sat with her legs hugged to her chest, her chin resting on her knees as she watched the Hogwarts grounds through the frosty window. With a wandless spell, she had melted the frost away, revealing a large stretch of the front of the Hogwarts grounds. Students ran and laughed through the snow, some engaging in short little snowball fights. The Gryffindors were some of those people, of course, with Lee Jordan and one of the Weasley twins hiding behind bushes and trees, cornering people with flurries of snowballs.

The sight of herself with the Dark Mark would never leave her mind. But it wasn't the idea of the Dark Lord returning that she feared, not really. It was the idea of being given so much power, and to have _no choice,_ and to _love it_. The Dark Mark was only given to the Dark Lords most inner circle, people with power and knowledge he wanted. And she didn't want to begin to imagine if that was exactly what being the Head of the Family would set her up for.

She wanted to be great, of course. But at what cost?

It was growing increasingly hard to remember that the Dark Lord had been defeated years ago. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching her. Madeline didn't bother looking up, keeping her eyes glued to the darkening Hogwarts grounds.

"Care for a Canary Custard?"

Madeline raised her head to find herself staring at none other than Fred Weasley, with his signature smile on his face, his glaringly Gryffindor tie askew, and holding out a custard cream to the girl. Madeline rolled her eyes, but smiled.

"I know better than to accept food from you and your brother."

Fred nodded understandingly, a proud look on his face. He sat in the empty space by her legs, "I was lying by the way; it's a normal custard cream."

"Nice try, but no."

Fred shrugged, flicking the biscuit away onto the floor. He looked at her with a slightly more serious expression, yet his eyes remained kind. "Hermione told me what happened, with your Boggart. Said you ran out straight after."

"I didn't _run out_ ," Madeline protested, "I just needed some air."

"Do you want me to go?"

"You don't have to," Madeline shrugged. She held his gaze for just a few moments longer before turning back to the window, the side of her head pressed against her crossed arms.

"You know, most peoples Boggarts are He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It's nothing to be ashamed of-"

"I'm not scared of him," Madeline interrupted, refusing to meet his gaze.

Fred paused for a few long moments, the silence almost deafening.

Madeline huffed. Fred was the first boy who had _clearly_ and _genuinely_ shown interest in her beyond wealth and fortune. To her knowledge, he didn't know anything about her family, about how _important_ the Bisset name was, and yet he was still here. But, Madeline knew that he deserved to know, especially after the form of her Boggart had reached his ears.

"My family aren't exactly… Aligned with good," Madeline spoke plainly, "Or at least that's what they've hinted to. They've never outright claimed they supported the Dark Lord. They're arguably the most powerful and influential wizarding family in France."

Fred's voice wasn't judgemental. In fact, it sounded perfectly rational, "So you're scared of becoming-"

"I'm scared that the idea of power becomes too strong to resist," Madeline interrupted. Her gaze stayed on the windows, "So; I'm a Slytherin with a bad attitude and a glaring potential for the Dark Arts. I'm shit-scared of the very real possibility that, if the Dark Lord ever rises again, I'll be forced to be first in line to be branded with a shiny new tattoo. And I know that's not what you signed up for, so quite frankly, you can walk away from the mess that _this_ is right now and I promise I'll never speak to you again."

Madeline kept her face stoic, her eyes glued to the window. She waited, listening for any sound of the Gryffindor boy getting up; waiting for him to walk right out of her life and never come back.

But the corridor remained silent.

Madeline finally pulled her gaze away from the window and to the boy, "So?"

Fred shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning back, He pulled his long legs up onto the bench next to Madeline's a cocky grin on his face.

"So; Hogsmeade next week?"

"Did you momentarily go deaf or are you just plain stupid?"

"The only stupid I am is stupid attracted to you," Fred grinned, "So, just to double check… Do you still want to go on a date with _me;_ a cocky, overly proud, sometimes selfish and _devilishly attractive_ Gryffindor?"

Madeline blinked in stupor. However, the answer was clear in her head.

"Yes Weasley; I'll go on a date with you."


	16. 15: Hogsmeade

**CHAPTER 15: Hogsmeade**

The Hogsmeade trip came around about mid-January, the snow and frost still thickly coating the Hogwarts grounds.

Madeline woke up bright and early, grabbing a cup of coffee from the Great Hall before returning to the Slytherin Dungeons. The quietness of the school was new to Madeline, but not unpleasant. Although it was Hogsmeade weekend, it was still the weekend, meaning most students were planning on sleeping in.

Most, but not including Daphne Greengrass.

"Where did you go?!" Daphne exclaimed the moment Madeline re-entered the common room, hands on her hips and dressed in a matching set of silky green pajamas. Theo was awake too, or well, half-asleep on the couch next to Daphne with his eyes closed and his head pressed into the back of the sofa. Clearly, not awoken by choice.

"I went to get a coffee-"

"No time!" Daphne commanded, pulling Theo to his feet, "We have less than two hours to get you ready for your date. Come on!"

"You woke me up with a _two-hour prep time_ in mind?!" Theo asked incredulously.

Daphne began stalking to the girls dormitory, pulling Theo along with her. Madeline rolled her eyes, but followed her overly exuberant friend, "You do realise Theo can't come up in the dorms, right?"

Daphne grinned, winking, "I figured out a way around the spell _months_ ago."

Madeline shivered at the thought of Terence Higgs in the girls dormitory. Theo must have realised the same, making a barfing noise as Daphne started leading the two into the fourth year dormitory, "Gross, Greengrass."

To Madeline's surprise, the other girls were up and awake too, all already dressed. Even Pansy, who had a reputation of waking up late, was combing through her hair in the mirror. No one seemed to bat an eyelid at Theo being dragged into the dormitory, clearly a common occurrence.

Sometimes, Madeline forgot that her two friends had known each other for years before Madeline had come along. It shouldn't be a surprise that their antics were so easily accepted by the rest of the house.

"Morning Nott," one of the fourth-year girls greeted him as he was dragged through. He tiredly lifted his hand to wave, immediately pushed down to sit on Daphne's bed, the one right next to Madeline's.

"Alright; what are you wearing and what else do you have?" Daphne immediately asked Madeline, who popped herself on her own bed.

"I dunno."

"You _don't know?"_

"I just figured I'd wear something warm."

The other girls began clearing out of the room, even Pansy sending Madeline a worried glance. Clearly, everyone knew how intense Daphne Greengrass could be when it came to romance.

"You figured you'd…" Daphne gaped at her best friend, huffing, "It's like you've never even been on a date!"

"I haven't."

Daphne blinked, "You're joking."

"Homeschooled, remember?"

Daphne breathed, rubbing her temples, "So you're telling me you naturally look _this beautiful_ at _this time of the morning_ and you've _never_ been on a date?!"

"Would you walk out if I told you I've never been kissed?"

Daphne's surprised face was really quite flattering, Madeline thought, "Alright Bisset, we _seriously_ need to give you a crash course on dating."

Theo furrowed his eyebrows, lifting his head, "We?"

"Yes Theodore; we're going to need all the help we can get. Madeline, turn around."

Madeline sighed, knowing there was absolutely no way of getting out of this. She turned around on her bed, sitting cross-legged with her back to the edge. She took another long sip of her coffee as Daphne grabbed the brush she'd given Madeline for Christmas and started brushing her hair.

"So, where are you going?"

"Hogsmeade."

"We're going to need to be a bit more specific here."

Madeline shrugged, "I don't know. There's a pub in the village, isn't there?"

"That's more like it," Daphne complimented, although Madeline wasn't sure if she meant the pub or her now silky straight hair, "Theo, pass me my wand."

"You're not cutting my hair."

Daphne scoffed as Theo passed her the wand, "Obviously not. _Curlus Revivum!_ "

In an instant, the sleek dark hair curled on itself, creating gentle, unfaltering curls that would stay for the entire day. Daphne nodded in approval, "Alright, go do your makeup."

"You're not going to monitor that, _mum?"_ Madeline teased, making her way over to her trunk.

"I can always _Obliteris_ the makeup off you," Daphne shrugged, sitting down on her bed as Theo rifled through the few books on her bedside table, "Alright, now hurry up."

Madeline rolled her eyes, grabbing her makeup bag and walking into the en-suite bathroom in the dorm, leaving the door open. Theo picked up one of Daphne's textbooks, rifling through the pages with half-hooded eyes. The minute Madeline was out of sight, Daphne rushed to the wardrobes in the room, rifling through hers and Madeline's.

Theo watched her inquisitively, holding the textbook up, "You should start taking notes in Ancient Runes."

"They're _ancient runes;_ how is _anyone_ meant to have the mental willpower to remember anything from that book?" Daphne huffed, rifling through a pile at the bottom of her wardrobe.

Theo rolled his eyes, falling onto his back on Daphnes bed, "How can you even tell them apart?"

"Tell what apart?"

"The Weasley twins."

Daphne shrugged, "The one that looks at Madeline as if he's undressing her is Fred.

"Ah. Of course."

"I can hear you!" Madeline called from the bathroom.

"Good!" Daphne called back, coming back up to her feet holding a bundle of clothing. She walked to the bathroom door, and without warning, threw the bundle to Madeline, "Try these on and thank me later."

"What-" before Madeline could protest, Daphne had shut the door on her.

"Merlin. If you're like this when _she_ has a date, remind me to never, _ever_ get involved in your dating life," Theo mused.

"Famous last words!"

* * *

Madeline nervously fiddled with the sleeves of her black peacoat, waiting in the entrance courtyard for Fred. Daphne had spent a _ridiculous_ amount of detail on her outfit, her hair, and her makeup. Of course, Madeline would've probably spiralled into an anxious frenzy had she not had Daphne to help her.

They had settled onto a tightly-fitting emerald green knit turtleneck, with flared sleeves and a single thick grey line crossing over her chest. They'd decided on a loosely-fitting pair of warm black jeans, the bottoms cuffed and the waist held by a thick black belt with a silver buckle. Of course, Madeline had been fixed on her black winter ankle boots, the ones with the charmed anti-slip block heels. And finally, the Bisset necklace around her neck, with a matching pair of golden studs in her ears.

She looked pretty, there was no doubt in that. She wasn't overly dressed up, but she still looked _good._ But she couldn't lie that she was nervous, especially with the subtle glances from passing Gryffindors. Even Lavender Brown had looked at her incredulously, clearly having heard about the date but hadn't believed it.

Daphne and Terence had left the Hogwarts grounds not long ago, now officially dating (a term, however, that Madeline was now using loosely when referring to the two). Theo had tagged along with Blaise when he'd offered a trip to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, and Madeline had spotted Cedric with Cho on their way down the path towards Hogsmeade.

Leaving her in the cold, alone and waiting. And getting nervous as hell.

What was she going to talk about? Would they kiss? _Should_ they kiss?! Bloody hell, she wasn't cut out for this. Maybe she was still in time to catch up with Theo and Blaise, or run back into the castle altogether.

Her panicked thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of crunching snow, Fred Weasley was rushing towards her with his hands tucked soundly in his jacket. George and Lee weren't too far behind him, shooting Madeline a set of playful thumbs-up before turning left and away from the duo. The butterflies in Madeline's stomach set off into a frenzy.

"Good morning," Fred grinned, a knitted yellow and orange bobble hat on his head. It was quite adorable, really.

Madeline smiled, "Morning, Weasley. Ready to go?"

"As I'll ever be," Fred grinned, offering his arm to Madeline, "Shall we Maddy?"

"We shall, Freddie."

* * *

"I don't believe it," Madeline stated as the two sat in the Three Broomsticks a few hours later, "Seriously? You're born on April Fools?!"

"When else?" Fred shrugged cockily, taking a sip of his gloriously delicious hot chocolate.

For the last hour, Fred had been telling Madeline all about his family. He told her about growing up with George and his older brothers, embarrassing childhood stories about Ron (including the time Fred transformed Ron's teddy bear into a giant spider), and how the twins had been written out of great-aunt Muriel's will due to a little prank played at Christmas.

It had been _pleasant,_ in Madeline's opinion. Oh, who was she kidding. She knew the ever-present smile on her face wasn't fooling anyone. Fred was charming, charismatic, and could make her laugh like she hadn't before. He went against absolutely everything her family had taught her; poise, elegance and grace. But it wasn't a bad feeling, going against what they'd taught her. In fact, she felt absolutely and positively delightful.

"So, what about you?" Fred asked as Madeline sipped her second coffee of the day, "What's your family like?"

Madeline shrugged, "Boring compared to yours, from the sounds of things."

Fred knitted his fingers together and placed his head on them, elbows on the table. He looked at her with wide, innocent eyes, "Tell me more."

Madeline felt her heart grow warm at Fred's fondness, but she simply cleared her throat, composing herself. She began her well-practiced speech, "My mother was a Beauxbatons Professor before I came along, but she returned to the school in September. My uncle is a Legislator for the French department of the Ministry Of Magic, and my grandmother has always just been an heiress."

"Sounds… Intense," Fred commented tactfully.

Madeline snorted, "You have no idea. I basically _grew up_ sipping non-alcoholic champagne and playing the part of the perfect granddaughter for my grandmothers friends."

"Gee, and sometimes I call my mum overbearing," Fred whistled, leaning back, "What about your dad?"

Madeline cleared her throat awkwardly, "He, uh, died when I was young. First Wizarding War, and all that."

"Oh," Fred realised awkwardly, "I'm sorry."

"That's why I was talking to the Fat Lady painting that one time," Madeline smiled slightly, "He was in Gryffindor, and she knew him while he was here. Said he was an inventor, and partially responsible for all the hidden passages in Hogwarts."

Fred smirked, "So _that's_ where the troublemaker gene comes from."

"I am _not_ a troublemaker!"

"Said the girl who put a prototyped _Exploding Bonbon_ in Draco Malfoy's drink."

"It's called having a brilliant sense of humour, thank you very much," Madeline defended, "And besides, you made the thing in the first place."

"Ah, but that's the difference," Fred continued, leaning forwards, "You're a troublemaker, while I simply exceed academic expectations."

"…By making exploding sweets?"

"Exactly that."

"…That I helped you make?"

"Details are irrelevant."

Madeline rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness, but she also couldn't help but smile, "I can't argue with academic excellence."

"Or lack thereof."

"Your words, not mine," Madeline pointed out.

Fred smiled, his eyes scanning Madeline's face. Merlin, she was beautiful. And witty, and smart, and far more interesting than his housemates gave her credit for. The green of her turtleneck was a reminder that she was still, in fact, a Slytherin. But the more time Fred spent around her, the more he found himself not caring.

"So," Fred continued, "Why'd you come to Hogwarts anyway?"

Madeline froze at the question, her good mood vanishing. She should've known the question was coming. She cleared her throat, plastering a forced smile on her face.

"My mother is friends with Dumbledore through my father. She thought it would be an… Enlightening educational experience," Madeline finished diplomatically, "And sure, my mother homeschooled me, but going to Beauxbatons with her as my Professor would be rather awkward, don't you think?"

"Can't argue with that if it brought you here," Fred shrugged, gulping the last of his hot chocolate, "So I'm guessing that homeschooling doesn't exactly cover sports, does it?"

Madeline snorted, "Absolutely not. I am a _terrible_ flyer."

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad."

"During my first lesson, the broom went out of control and launched me into the French alps. They had to send a rescue team to find me."

Fred contained himself for exactly one moment before exploding in a flurry of laughter, "Alright! I believe you."

Madeline couldn't help but laugh along, "At least I play a mean game of Wizard Chess."

"Well, how about this," Fred offered once he'd calmed down, "I'll teach you how to ride a broom if you teach me how to beat Ron at chess. Deal?"

Madeline grinned. Although it wasn't set in stone, Fred clearly had every intention of still seeing her after today. She held her hand out to shake, "Deal."

The two shook hands, both with grins plastered to their faces. When Madeline realised she may have been holding his hand for a little too long, she quickly pulled it away, gesturing to the now two empty mugs, "I'll get us a refill."

"Let me-"

"Nope," Madeline interrupted immediately "I don't believe in all that 'the guy pays for the date' stuff. Let me buy you a drink, Weasley."

"Alright, alright!" Fred laughed, holding his hands up, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Madeline replied, standing up with her purse, "I'll be right back."

Madeline swiftly made her way over to the end of the bar, waiting for Madam Rosmerta to serve her other customers. Further along the bar, Lavender Brown and a couple of other Gryffindor girls sat at the bar and stirred their own hot drinks lazily.

Madeline didn't pay too much attention to them, focusing instead on the rather… Interesting paintings on the wall across the bar. It was only when she heard Fred's name did she realise that _she_ was in fact the topic of conversation.

"-Fred sees in her," one of the Gryffindor girls Madeline didn't recognise said, "Like, I just _don't get it."_

Lavender Brown scoffed, "Have you seen her face?!"

"Fat lot of good a pretty face is if its on an ugly person," Parvati Patil sighed, staring dreamily beyond the bar, "But… She _was_ really nice to Neville in that DADA class at the beginning of the year."

"Doesn't mean she's a saint," Fay Dunbar scoffed, lowering her voice, "I saw her dance with Draco Malfoy at the Yule Ball."

Lavender Brown gasped, "I saw her too! She hexed Seamuses shoes!"

Madeline smirked to herself at the remark as Fay continued, "She's not Fred's usual type… "

"You'd know all about that!" Parvati laughed, "We all know you snogged him at that Quidditch party last year."

Madeline raised her eyebrow at the revelation. Fay was definitely pretty, and maybe even taller than Madeline herself. It would make sense for Fred to be attracted to her, especially because they were in the same house.

"Either way, she's not his type," Fay snapped, crossing her arms defensively, "I don't see why he's wasting his time when we all know it'll all go to hell sooner or later."

Madeline's jaw tensed, her hand grabbing the bar ledge. Of course, once again, people were making assumptions about her. And it wasn't fair. But she wasn't about to let a group of Gryffindor girls ruin her date.

"I like her," one of the unknown Gryffindor girls timidly spoke, "And if Harry Potter is friends with her, surely she's not like the other Slytherins?"

Ah. _Not like the other Slytherins._ As if that was a compliment.

Madam Rosmerta placed two more hot chocolates in front of the group, Fay paying. It was only when the woman began making her way to Madeline did the girls notice her.

"Refils for you and your date, darling?" Madam Rosmerta asked, recognising the girl.

"Please," Madeline smiled politely. Madam Rosmerta nodded, turning around and beginning to prepare the drinks.

The Gryffindor girls stared at Madeline with wide eyes as she turned around to face them, a sickly sweet smile on her face.

"If you _lovely ladies_ wanted to get to know me better, you could've just asked," Madeline smiled, placing her elbow on the bar and resting her head in her hand.

"Oh, we didn't mean to-"

"What you say about others says a _lot_ about yourself as a person," Madeline mused, "I guess Gryffindors really _do_ value nerve, huh?"

Before any of the girls could reply, Madam Rosmerta placed the drinks in front of Madeline. She paid quickly, sending the girls one last smile as she grabbed the drinks and made her way back to Fred.

"Making friends?" Fred asked, having watched the interaction from the table.

Madeline scoffed, "Something like that."

Their conversation, however, was interrupted by a table not too far away from them.

"Sit down, you silly little girl, and don't talk about things you don't understand," Rita Skeeter's nasally voice spoke coldly, the entire pub falling into silence, "I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl… Not that it needs it."

"Bloody hell, what's she doing here?" Fred asked quietly, turning to see Rita Skeeter standing over Ron, Hermione and Harry's table.

"Let's go," Hermione huffed, standing up, "C'mon. Harry - Ron…"

In a short shuffle, the three friends stood up and made their way out of the pub, dozens of eyes stuck on them. Although they had left the pub, Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table

"What was that all about?" Fred wondered as the quiet pub chatter resumed, "She's a nasty piece of work, but to get them riled up like that-"

"One second," Madeline interrupted.

She stood up and made her way to Rita, who was nodding excitedly as her quill filled the parchment with, undoubtably, more lies. Madeline had never been a fan of the press; she'd had a rather nasty article written about herself when she'd rejected someone from the French royal family earlier this year.

"Excuse me, Miss Skeeter?" Madeline asked, attracting the attention of many patrons.

"Yes, love?" Rita asked. She noticed Fred watching Madeline eagerly from his table, two mugs on his table. Clearly, the two were here together, "Did you have a story you'd like me to report?"

"That depends," Madeline continued, lowering her voice, "Are you here on official business?"

Rita caught her hint, grinning slyly, "I'm not on official Daily Prophet business, no."

"Good," Madeline nodded, "So I won't get in trouble for this."

Before Rita could even _think,_ Madeline grabbed the parchment from the table and ripped it to shreds, watching Ritas stunned face proudly as she let the tiny shreds fall back onto the table.

"You _horrible_ girl!" Rita shrieked as Madeline crossed her arms, "Thats press suppression! You're going to get into a lot of trouble, young lady-"

"Actually, you're not on official business," Madeline pointed out, "So technically, everything is off the record. Toodles!"

With that, Madeline turned on her heel, stalking back to Fred's table proudly. She didn't bother sitting, taking a large gulp of coffee before holding her hand out to Fred.

"I don't think we'll be very welcome here for much longer," Madeline mused, Fred wearing an ear-splitting grin on his face, "Should we get going?"

Fred chugged the rest of his hot chocolate quickly, grabbing Madeline's hand and standing, "After you."

* * *

Madeline was having a _lot_ of fun on her date, thank you very much.

After leaving the pub, the two had perused different stores in Hogsmeade, not buying anything. Instead, they continued chatting about little things; potions assignments, stories from their different houses… It almost made her feel normal, as if there were no house rivalries looming above them.

When the time had come for them to return to the castle, the two had opted to walk slowly, their hands brushing against each other as Madeline attempted (and failed) to identify numerous plants on their walk. Clearly, Herbology still wasn't her strongest subject.

"I've had fun, you know?" Madeline mused as dusk began to settle in, the pair now only a few minutes away from the castle.

"Did you have any doubts?" Fred asked cheekily, earning himself a nudge from Madeline.

"Not exactly," Madeline winked, "But I'm expecting you to hold onto that promise of teaching me how to fly."

"Only if you show me your wicked skills at chess," Fred teased, the pair coming to a stop once they reached the bottom of the path leading to the castle.

Fred turned to Madeline, who could barely feel her cheeks by how much she was surely blushing. Fred looked at her earnestly, one of his hands brushing her fingers as he took her hand in his.

"For the record; I had fun, too," Fred smiled, although it wasn't laced with its usual mischief. It made Madeline's stomach flutter in excitement.

"Did you have any doubts?" Madeline mocked with his own words, which caused Fred's smile to widen even more.

His gaze fell to her lips, Madeline's own eyes falling to his. Although it was winter, she felt warm, his other hand finding her other one.

 _Merlin, this is happening,_ Madeline thought.

Fred's brown eyes were wide and honest, looking at her with more affection Madeline could remember receiving. Her smile fell from her face as he leant in closer, both of their eyes slowly drooping shut. Just a moment longer and-

"Good evening, lovebirds!"

The pair jumped apart, their hands disconnecting as George Weasley wrapped his arms around both of their shoulders. Lee was on Fred's other side, punching his shoulder teasingly.

Madeline didn't know if her heart was beating from the scare, or the almost-kiss. Her breathing was heavy, as if she'd just run up a hill. She dug her hands into the pockets of her coat, suddenly cold.

"And what have you two been up to today?" Lee asked cheekily, his arm wrapping around Fred's, "Spare no details for us, Madeline."

"Actually, I think it's about time I get back to the common room," Madeline pulled herself from George's embrace, standing in front of the three. Her eyes met Fred's, "Seriously, I had fun. I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," Fred nodded breathlessly, a grin on his face despite his brothers interruption, "I'll come find you."

Madeline smiled at the three boys, her gaze lingering on Fred before swiftly turning around, quickly making her way up to the castle.

Despite the interrupted ending, Madeline could see herself having a lot of fun with Fred in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello everyone!
> 
> I'd like to first and foremost thank you all for the support I've had on this story. It's so beautifully motivating to see you guys enjoying Madeline's journey, and I hope that I continue to live up to your expectations of it.
> 
> 1.) Just to let you all know, I fully intend to continue this story until after the Battle of Hogwarts. I have already written scenes that are to come in later chapters, but I will be going through each year of Madeline's life in Hogwarts to create a well-rounded character, and make this story as realistic as possible had Madeline been in the canon universe.
> 
> 2.) If you are able to, please share this story with anyone you think may enjoy it! Reviews, ideas and comments are always welcome!
> 
> 3.) Caradoc Dearborn is a real character in the Harry Potter canon. He is mentioned by Mad-Eye Moody when discussing past Order members. This will all come into play later into the story.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and see you in the next chapter!


	17. 16: The Second Task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of important details in this chapter; you might want to take notes if you plan on sticking around for the full story ;)

**Chapter 16: The Second Task**

** May, 1997 **

Sixth Year

_The unfamiliar solemn silence haunted the halls of Hogwarts, replacing what had been jolly laughter once upon a time. The sky had turned a cloudy grey, the rain unfaltering and violent against the windows, almost as if it were mourning with the school. Not even Peeves could be found, seemingly vanishing along with the joy that had once run through the very walls of Hogwarts._

_Two very different boys were sat underneath an alcove, their backs to the cold glass of the windows. Both boys held worn expressions on their faces, although one would forever hold more guilt than the other. Condolences didn't need to be exchanged, not yet, for both were too lost in their own grief._

_"_ _Did you love her?" the first boy asked, breaking through the silence with gentle ease._

_The second boy scoffed, as if the other had just told a joke. He looked up to the darkened stone ceiling, smiling fondly._

_"_ _How could anyone not love her?"_

_Both would hold her smile in their hearts until the end of time._

* * *

**February, 1995**

Fourth Year

February fluttered into the Hogwarts grounds with the promise of the second Triwizard task approaching. The excitement grew day by day, the students seemingly falling back into that same flurry of tension they had been in months before. Madeline could hardly believe she'd been in Hogwarts for nearly six months, and what an exciting six months it had been.

The commotion of the oncoming task had done little to prevent the never-ending flurry of homework. Sat at one of the larger study tables in the Slytherin common room, Madeline looked around at her friends. Theo was on her left, finishing his Potions assignment, while Daphne and Terence sat to right, flirting and trying (failing) to complete their own assignments.

Over the short time Madeline had known him, Theo had been a strong and loyal, yet reserved friend. He spoke with reason and diplomacy, and Madeline was sure that no one could pose him a problem he couldn't solve. Meanwhile, Daphne was bold, brash, impulsive, and knew exactly how to win anyone over with her charisma and good looks. Sat together, the trio looked positively untouchable, with the green of their ties keeping any and all unwanted attention away. They looked _intimidating_ , and the few that knew them well would confirm this.

Terence wasn't Madeline's favourite person by any account. He was cocky and arrogant, and embodied all the selfish qualities of a Slytherin. Yet, she had no doubt that he too would help her if she ever needed it. He was a jock with a golden heart, as some may say, with a horrible tendency to go above and beyond the socially acceptable levels of PDA.

Tracy Davis was exactly the kind of presence the trio needed in Slytherin. She was refreshingly down-to-earth, with a working class family and a healthy relationship. She cared about the younger students, and made sure that everyone in the house felt warm and welcome.

And of course, she couldn't forget her other friends. Cedric had been rather preoccupied with the oncoming task recently, as had Harry. Hermione had been busy bugging the latter to figure out his egg, but Madeline had often joined Hermione to study in the library with Ginny and Neville (much to the boys surprise).

Fleur and Madeline had spent numerous January mornings eating breakfast together, the two catching up with anything and everything, from the Yule Ball to Fleur's progress in the tournament. Theo and Fleur had sizzled out quickly, both equating the date to the ball as friendship more than anything.

And of course, Fred.

There hadn't been an almost-kiss since the Hogsmeade date, which was rather unfortunate in Madeline's opinion. They'd shared few lunches and study dates together, and had occasionally brushed hands on the way out of the Great Hall, but had yet to make good on their promises on chess and flying.

But… She really liked the boy. Like, _really_ liked him. She liked the person she was around him; carefree and _fun,_ something that a lot of Slytherins didn't particularly partake in.

"You're brooding out loud again," Daphne pointed out, shaking Madeline out of her thoughts, "Come on, stop daydreaming about the ginger."

"I am not daydreaming," Madeline protested, pulling her wand out of her robes and flourishing it over the parchments, "See? I'm studying."

"Bloody hell Bisset, you have a weird wand," Terence whistled with wide eyes.

"I do not!" Madeline protested.

"You really do," Daphne agreed, staring at it curiously, "What is it anyway?"

"Hickory," Madeline answered instantly, "And a bloodwood handle."

"How elegant," Daphne drawled mockingly.

Madeline looked down at her wand. To be fair, it wasn't exactly the classical design most of her peers had. While their wands were sleek and polished, Madeline's twisted around itself slightly, the knots in the hickory having created small holes in the main body of the wand (which didn't affect her spells _at all,_ thank you very much). The handle of the wand was made of deep bloodwood, a simple cylindrical design.

It had been made by the same wand maker that had made all the Bisset wands for generations. The core of her wand, however, had been the same as her fathers; dragon heartstring, a curiosity her mother had found rather fascinating.

 _"_ _You are just like your father,"_ she had mused fondly when Madeline had gotten her wand.

"So, the second task is tomorrow," Daphne began, closing her textbook with a definitive thud and interrupting Madeline's thoughts once more, "Do you know anything about it?"

"And why would I?" Madeline asked in confusion.

" _Because_ you're friends with three out of four champions," Daphne pointed out, "So; any intel?"

"Nope," Madeline sighed, leaning back into her chair, "Nothing."

"Seriously?"

"Last I heard, they're all too busy still trying to figure out the egg," Madeline shrugged, "I'm pretty sure Fleur figured it out, but they're not allowed to tell me any details."

"Well, that's boring," Daphne scoffed, crossing her arms, "And here we are, the _commoners_ , left to wait until tomorrow-"

"Woe is you," Theo teased, rolling his eyes.

"They're bound to make this one harder than the dragons," Daphne mused, ignoring Theo's remark. She turned to Terence, "What's scarier than a dragon?"

"Snape smiling," Terence nodded decisively.

Madeline scoffed playfully, "So the second task is to make Snape laugh?"

"Impossible," Theo nodded along, the small group chuckling.

Madeline sighed, looking out of the window and into the depths of the lake, "I do hope they don't make us sit outside. It's freezing."

* * *

"Fred, it's _freezing!"_ Madeline laughed as he grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the Quidditch field.

"An even better reason to warm up," Fred threw a wink at her over his shoulder, slowing his pace, "And what better way to get warm than to fly a few laps around the Quidditch field?"

"I can think of at least seven," Madeline huffed, "All of which involve sitting _inside_ , around a _fireplace,_ which is _actually_ warm."

"Live a little!" Fred simply replied, the two finally arriving at the pitch.

He immediately pulled her towards the Gryffindor changing rooms, their hands still firmly clasped together. Madeline blushed, knowing what people would think had anyone spotted them, but her head was far too filled with worries to even consider anything like _that._

Fred had shown up in the dungeons just half an hour ago, Blaise Zabini begrudgingly informing Madeline of his presence with a rather disgusted look on his face. Fred had barely given her any time to wrap up, instead throwing her a green knitted jumper his mother had made him a few christmases ago, with a large white 'F' at the front and the sleeves far too long for Madeline. It had kept her warm all the same, but it was all so _new;_ wearing a boys jumper and rushing off with him to go god knows where.

"I'm not missing my dinner for Quidditch," Madeline informed him courtly as Fred rummaged through some storage cupboards.

"Relax; dinner isn't for _hours,"_ Fred replied, half of his body still inside the cupboard, "Aha!"

Fred pulled out two worn-looking brooms from the cupboard, noticing Madeline's skeptical look as he handed her one, "Don't worry; these two are the best practice brooms we've got."

"Because that makes it so much safer," Madeline muttered to herself, "Seriously, we could always go back inside and have a hot chocolate or something-"

"Nope," Fred replied, popping the 'p' as he rocked back on his heels, one hand in his pocket, "A deal is a deal. Now come on before Wood catches us."

"I'm going to regret this," Madeline sighed, but Fred ignored her, grabbing her hand once more and leading her onto the pitch.

Although Madeline had never watched a Quidditch game in Hogwarts, she knew enough about the sport to know that the pitch was _huge_ for a simple school sport. Decorated with stands in each house colour, the pitch was large and daunting, especially for an inexperienced flyer such as Madeline.

"Just a few laps," Fred promised, handing Madeline a broom.

Madeline took it hesitantly, looking up to the sky, "It looks like it's going to rain soon."

"No excuses," Fred hushed her. He mounted his broom easily, looking at her expectantly, "Or… Are you a wimp?

Madeline hesitated for a few moments before huffing, climbing onto her broom carefully. Both her feet were still on the floor, but it didn't make her any less of a bad flyer.

"I don't think you understand how bad I am at this," Madeline pointed out.

"I don't think you trust yourself enough," Fred winked, lifting off, "See you on the other side."

And with that, the Weasley boy zoomed through the air to the other side of the pitch, climbing higher and higher into the sky. Madeline watched in awe as he soared through the air with confidence, undeniably one of the best flyers Madeline had ever seen.

And there it was again; that feeling of freedom, of carelessness, and of leaving all her worries behind her.

"Why did I agree to this?" Madeline muttered to herself, but proceeded to liftoff, kicking her feet and pushing up into the sky.

She was only a few meters above the ground, but she gripped the body of the broom tightly, navigating slowly through the air to the other side of the pitch. Fred zoomed back down to her height once she'd reached halfway up the looped goal posts.

"See? It's not so bad," Fred teased, Madeline's expression clearly giving away her nervousness.

"I hate you," Madeline glared, trying to gain her balance as she tilted side to side.

"Lean forwards," Fred supplied, "Come on; let's do some laps."

For the next hour, Fred directed Madeline around the pitch, first flying a couple of laps until she gained more confidence, then trying to dart through the circular goal posts. The clouds above them seemed to be growing thicker and darker, and so the duo decided to call it for the day (much to Madeline's delight).

"How do I land this thing properly?" Madeline asked, floating a few meters above the ground.

"Just be careful," Fred called, already on the floor. He felt the first few drops of rain hit his face, "Hey, you were right-"

He was interrupted, however, by Madeline's shriek as she lost her balance on the broom, tumbling off and onto the ground.

And grabbing Fred on the way down.

Madeline opened her eyes with a groan as her back hit the ground. Thankfully, it wasn't a painful fall, but the moment her eyes met the brown ones above her, she felt herself blushing.

Because obviously, _obviously_ Fred Weasley would land on top of her.

"Are you alright?" Fred asked, pulling himself up from above her.

"Yeah, fine," Madeline breathed, nodding far too enthusiastically. He had both arms braced on either side of her, searching her face innocently for any injury, "Sorry; I caught you on the way down."

"Don't worry about it," Fred replied, although his eyes weren't watching hers. Instead, they drifted down to her lips, only a few inches away.

The rain had increased, hitting the ground around them with a violent speed, but neither of them noticed. Instead, all they had eyes for was the other.

Madeline could feel her heart beating against her chest, and wondered if Fred could hear it too. And she was sure he could.

And then, Fred kissed her.

And _Merlin_ was he a good kisser.

It was slow and sweet, not a hint of urgency in the air. It was nothing more than a simple kiss, yet Madeline could feel her stomach flip and her head spin, much more than it had on the broom. It was _electric._ And in that moment, it felt absolutely _right_ , despite the rain and the wet clothes, and Madeline's disheveled hair.

It felt like freedom, like a breath of fresh air.

They broke apart with a breath after a few moments, eyes meeting each others sheepishly. Fred was the first to grin, pulling himself further away from the girl.

"So, did you have fun?"

Madeline grinned, pulling herself up on her elbows, "Shut up and kiss me again, Weasley."

And, as far as Madeline could care, she could've stayed under the rainy skies forever.

* * *

Madeline returned to the common room with drenched hair and the green 'F' jumper still wrapped around her. Despite the running makeup and her shivering frame, she still held the brightest smile anyone had seen in weeks.

"Did you take a dip in the Great Lake?" Pansy snorted as Madeline passed her, Draco to her right. Madeline ignored them both, much to Pansy's annoyance, and made her way to the fireplace.

She sat herself between Theo and Daphne, who shared a sofa. The beaming smile on her face was enough to confuse both her friends.

"Who are you and what have you done with Madeline?" Theo immediately asked, scanning her unruly appearance.

"And why do you look like a drowned rat?" Daphne asked bluntly.

Madeline shrugged, straightening out Fred's jumper, "I went flying."

"You went… Flying?" Theo asked in confusion. However, all the pieces quickly clicked together for Daphne.

"You need to tell me _everything_!" she gasped loudly, drawing the attention of the entire common room, "Is that _his jumper?!"_

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell," Madeline shrugged, which sent Daphne in a frenzy of excitement.

"Nice one, Bisset," Tracy complimented as she sat herself across from the trio.

"Seriously," Daphne nodded along excitedly.

Draco stared at Madeline with an unreadable expression, calling from his table with Pansy, "Bloody hell, he must be desperate!"

Crabbe and Goyle, who were also sharing the table with him and Pansy, cackled loudly. Madeline simply held her middle finger up to the group, ignoring Draco Malfoy's poor attempt at comedy.

"Okay, but you need to tell me _everything,"_ Daphne repeated as Blaise walked into the common room, "How was it? Did you-"

"Bisset, I'd appreciate if you made it clear to everybody that I'm _not_ your personal owl," Blaise announced dramatically as he sat himself next to Tracy, leaning back onto the sofa with the same arrogance he always wore.

Madeline raised her eyebrow, "I beg your pardon?"

"Moody is outside. Wants to see you," Blaise replied gruffly, eyeing her jumper, "That's an awful jumper, by the way."

"How charming," Madeline rolled her eyes, standing up, "I'm sure it's just something to do with an essay, or something."

"Shout if you need anything," Daphne joked, and Madeline swiftly made her way out of the common room, ignoring Draco Malfoy's persistent gaze, "And don't think you're getting out of telling me _everything."_

"You're intense," Blaise observed, looking at Daphne.

"And you look like you have a stick shoved up your-"

Madeline closed the door behind her, deciding she definitely didn't need to hear the rest of Daphne's conversation.

* * *

_"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… Two… Three!"_

"Where the hell is Madeline?" Daphne huffed, looking over the lake with a frown. Her hands were covered with thick mittens, earmuffs over her head. She stood with Terence and Theo, leaning over the railing of the stands and looking over the lake.

"Probably with the Weasley boy," Terence shrugged, wrapping an arm around Daphne. He rubbed her shoulder warmly, "She wouldn't miss this, would she?"

"That's whats worrying me," Daphne mumbled to herself, Theo nodding in agreement quietly. He looked over at the other Slytherins, eyeing Draco, who too seemed entranced with watching the still waters.

* * *

_All she could do was run._

_It felt as if she couldn't breathe, running through thickly covered forests. She didn't know what she was running from, but she knew she had to leave. To get away, as quickly as possible_

_Fat wet tears ran down her face, her feet painfully crashing against the forest floor. A bag was slung over one of her shoulders, barely containing anything but few essentials, and her wand was tightly wedged between her hip and her trousers. Her hair kept flying into her face, but she made no move to fix it. Instead, she kept running._

_Flashes of memories seemed to dart across her eyes; green lights, warm jumpers, mirrors… She didn't know what it was, and she didn't know how to make it stop._

_It was a dream. It_ had _to be a dream, but something told her that perhaps, dreams weren't necessarily a fantasy._

* * *

Madeline emerged from the lake with a great big gulp of air, her hands moving the stray wet pieces of hair from her face. She coughed and sputtered a little, but overall, she was okay. Freezing, but okay. The dream was long forgotten.

When Moody had brought her to Dumbledore the night before, she'd agreed to be used for the task when she realised her refusal would mean Fleur's younger sister, Gabrielle, would be used instead. Gabrielle, a sweet young witch who'd joined her sister in Hogwarts because she couldn't bare the thought of being away from her, and how could Madeline put her in that position?

However, she hadn't accounted for exactly how _cold_ it was.

"Bloody hell Weasley, do you know how to swim?" Madeline asked Ron gruffly, he too having emerged from the water with her.

"Obviously, I do," he snapped.

"Then stop clinging to me like a baby," Madeline snapped back, shrugging his grip off of her shoulders. She pointedly ignored the cheering of the students as she began swimming towards one of the raised platforms on the lake, "Hurry along, now. Wouldn't want the merpeople to mistake you for a pufferfish."

"What does my brother see in you…" Ron muttered, but began swimming towards the platforms, too.

Madeline allowed herself to gaze over the large crowds of students above and around them. Everyone was cheering and clapping loudly, including some of the Slytherins. Madeline even spotted Daphne and Theo clapping, the former jumping obnoxiously.

Fleur was the first to rush over and help Madeline out of the water, a towel wrapped around her tightly.

 _"_ _You scared me half to death!" Fleur exclaimed in French, pulling Madeline out of the water, "Why would you ever agree to this?!"_

 _"_ _Gabrielle,"_ Madeline stated simply, pulling herself onto the platform. She begrudgingly helped Ron, too, _"Wait… But if you didn't get me out, who did?"_

 _"_ _Harry,"_ Fleur confirmed, looking out into the water worriedly, _"But he has yet to come out."_

And suddenly, as if on cue, Harry burst through the water and into midair, landing directly on the platform between her and Ron. Madam Pomfrey instantly rushed over, the students going crazy with cheering as he landed with a thud.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing over, "You did it!"

"You prat!" Madeline exclaimed, kneeling down next to him and patting his back forcefully, "You didn't have to save both of us! Did you really think Dumbledore was going to let one of us _drown?!"_

"Well I'm _sorry_ for not wanting you to drown," Harry coughed, catching his breath.

Madam Pomfrey forcefully handed each one of them a warm towel and a red potion. Madeline drank hers instantly, feeling the heat return to her body almost immediately. It was then that she realised, with a blush colouring her cheeks, that she was _still_ wearing Fred's knitted green jumper from the day before. A jumper that the whole school had now seen.

 _"_ _You're going red, are you alright?"_ Fleur asked, eyeing the jumper, _"Is that new? It looks very… Handmade."_

 _"_ _It's not mine,"_ Madeline confessed quietly.

The judges went into a huddle. Fleur continued to fuss over Madeline as Ron and Hermione did the same to Harry. Madeline sent Harry a grateful smile, allowing Fleur to comb through her hair and plait it to 'save her dignity'.

Eventually, after a few minutes, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out from the judges stands, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…"

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

 _"_ _I didn't do anything,"_ Fleur huffed, _"I don't deserve it."_

 _"_ _You've never been modest in your life and you sure as hell aren't starting now,"_ Madeline squeezed her friends arm.

 _"_ _I didn't save you-"_

 _"_ _I don't care; my life wasn't in danger,"_ Madeline insisted.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour," Bagman continued. Enormous cheers erupted from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd, and Madeline spotted Cedric and Cho looking at each other fondly from the other platform. "We therefore award him forty-seven points."

The Hufflepuffs cheered once more, silenced almost instantly by Bagman.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points. "

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

Madeline looked at Harry incredulously. He would have won first place if he hadn't been too busy playing hero. Stupid Gryffindors and their hero-complexes.

"Most of the judges…" Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "Feel that this shows moral fibre and merits full marks. However… Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points!"

The stands erupted into especially loud applause.

"There you go, Harry!" Ron shouted over the noise. "You weren't being thick after all - you were showing moral fibre!"

Madeline moved to the Golden Trio and slung her arm around Harry's shoulder, a grin on her face, "Moral fibre and stupidity suit you, Potter."

"I should've left you at the bottom of the lake," Harry teased.

"Which is what I've been saying," Madeline nodded.

Fleur was clapping very hard too, joining the four friends, but Krum didn't look happy at all. He attempted to engage Hermione in conversation again, but she was too busy cheering Harry to listen.

"Hold on… You're joint first with Cedric!" Madeline exclaimed excitedly to Harry.

"You could win," Hermione nodded in agreement, "It's just the third task-"

"Oh, sod the third task," Madeline huffed, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm freezing and in _desperate_ need of a shower."

The Golden Trio laughed, and Madeline took a moment to look up to the stands. She spotted Fred and George, the latter trying to stop the former from marching down to the platforms. Daphne and Terence had started a chant with the Slytherins, much to her surprise, while Theo looked characteristically embarrassed.

Six months may not be a very long time, but in that moment, Madeline was sure that she'd found her family.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Bagman once the audience had calmed down. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand."


	18. 17: Witch Weekly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a little filler chapter as we mark out the story a little bit more. I think that we've got a few more chapters to go before we reach Order of The Phoenix, which is where the story will truly take off, in my humble opinion.
> 
> Thank you once again for all the support on this story! Please leave any ideas or thoughts in the reviews/comments; I love reading them!

**CHAPTER 17: Witch Weekly**

_'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache'_

_A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss._

_Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."_

_However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest._

_"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."_

_Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potters well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate._

Madeline scoffed at the ridiculous article, throwing the _Witch Weekly_ magazine across the coffee table and back to Pansy, "This is ridiculous."

"Jealous _you_ didn't get interviewed?" Pansy remarked arrogantly, holding the magazine proudly.

"I'd rather not have my name all over a gossip column. Unlike some of us, I'm not that trashy, thank you very much," Madeline snapped back.

Pansy's face became red, her lips pursed in anger as she stood up and stormed out of the common room and to the dormitories, the magazine still clutched between her hands. Madeline simply rolled her eyes, leaning back into the sofa.

"That Rita Skeeter is really going in on the champions," Daphne sighed, seating herself where Pansy had been moments before.

"It's ridiculous," Madeline huffed, "She's horrid. Fred and I saw her in Hogsmeade."

"I'm surprised you're not the one in _Witch Weekly_ for snogging a Weasley _,"_ Daphne joked.

Madeline rolled her eyes, "I'm not exactly into PDA, unlike someone I know…"

"It's hot," Daphne shrugged defensively, smugness in her voice, "No one's complaining-"

"Oh believe me Greengrass, we all are," Blaise promised as he sat himself down with the two girls, "But you're too involved with whatever is in Higgs mouth to notice."

"Gross," Madeline agreed.

Daphne shrugged, smirking once more, "Enjoy the show you bores, it's free."

Madeline groaned in disgust, Blaise contorting his face to match. Madeline stood up and dusted herself off pointedly, grabbing the green jumper she'd left draped on the arm of the sofa.

"I'm leaving," Madeline announced, wrapping her arms around the jumper, "See you at dinner, yeah?"

"Why would you leave me with _this_?" Blaise groaned, going ignored by both girls.

"She's off to find her own loverboy," Daphne laughed, leaning back and crossing her legs sassily, "She's in _lo-ovee,"_ she teased.

"Shove off," Madeline rolled her eyes, "We're just playing chess."

"Is that what they've been calling it these days?" Daphne wiggled her eyebrows.

"Stop. The both of you," Blaise groaned, "Bisset, just go will you?"

"Geez. Don't miss me too much Zabini," Madeline grinned, walking out of the common room with a spring in her step.

Madeline had landed herself a nasty cold after the second task, meaning it had been well over a week since her and Fred had managed to spend some time alone together. They'd occasionally sat together for meals, but that had been with Madeline's sniffling nose and the prying eyes and ears of the entire Gryffindor table. Now, Madeline was finally living up to her promise of teaching Fred how to beat _anyone_ at chess.

She had just made it onto the Great Staircase when she found herself bumping into something, or well, _someone._

"Are you okay?" Madeline asked as the girl tumbled back a few steps.

The blonde-haired girl pushed a couple of straggly stray strands off her face as she nodded, the hair falling right back in its original place over her face. She was rather odd, adorned little pieces of jewellery Madeline had never seen the likes of.

"I wasn't looking where I was going," the girl replied softly, almost dreamily, "Must've been a Wrackspurt, but I think it's gone now."

"A… A what?" Madeline asked in confusion.

The girl didn't reply. Instead, her eyes fell onto Madeline's necklace; the Bisset Crest. Madeline had recently taken to wearing it over her clothing when possible. The girls' expression didn't change.

"You have one too," she stated simply. Her eyes were fixated on the necklace, although it didn't feel like she was staring. In fact, her gaze was almost dreamy, as if looking into a memory.

"I have a _Wrackspurt_?" Madeline asked in confusion.

"No. Well, maybe," the girl replied, staring off over Madeline's shoulder, "Have you seen a pair of shoes or two anywhere? I seem to have misplaced mine."

Madeline looked down at the girl, spotting her pair of odd socks; one light green and the other a deep plum. And of course, no shoes. She slowly shook her head, "Uh, no I haven't. But I'll keep an eye out for you?"

"Sure, but we should both go now," the girl smiled dreamily, passing Madeline. Her soft bouncy footsteps almost made her seem like she was _floating_ down the staircase., "I won't keep you any longer."

Madeline watched the odd girl walk away, unsure if she was even _real._ Even just a few moments later, the interaction seemed almost like a dream. She shrugged the encounter away; the girl didn't _seem_ particularly odd at first glance (if you looked past the odd socks and bizarre jewellery), but she sure acted like it.

She continued her climb up the stairs and to the Gryffindor Common Room, where the Fat Lady greeted her warmly, for a change.

* * *

"See, you've left your King exposed _here_ ," Madeline instructed as she sat across from Fred in the common room, a chess set between them on the small wooden table, "I could take you out in four moves, easy."

"This is so confusing," Fred groaned, rubbing his face. He pushed his fingers into his cheeks, perching his elbows onto the table, "How do you remember all of this?"

Madeline shrugged smugly, "The same way you remember plays in Quidditch."

Fred scoffed, "Quidditch is much easier than this rubbish."

"So, another game?"

"Definitely."

Madeline began resetting the board just as Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into the Common Room, perching themselves on the sofas around the fireplace. At first, Madeline thought nothing of it. In fact, she had barely noticed their presence until Hermione began raising her voice, rather loudly in Madeline's opinion.

"I hate that Skeeter woman!" Hermione burst out savagely, which shocked Madeline. Of course, she knew Hermione wouldn't be happy about the article, but hearing her anger first-hand was different, "I'll get her back for this if it's the last thing I do!"

"It'll die down, though," Harry told Hermione, "You know, If we just ignore it… People got bored with that stuff she wrote about me last time."

"Yes, _after_ you won everyones hearts back from the first task," Hermione pointed out.

Madeline didn't mean to eavesdrop; she really didn't. However, it was evident by Fred's own expression that neither of them were going to be returning to the chess game soon. Both stayed silent, listening to the Golden Trio.

"I want to know how she's listening into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds!" Hermione huffed, "I asked Moody; he said he didn't see her anywhere near the judges' table at the second task, or anywhere near the lake!"

"So?" Ron asked

"So, if she was using an Invisibility Cloak, his magic eye would've seen her like he saw Harry the other night," Hermione explained in exasperation.

Ron groaned, "Is there any point in telling you to drop this?"

"No. We need to know how she heard me talking to Viktor! And how she found out about Hagrid's mum," Hermione persisted.

"Maybe she had you bugged," Harry suggested.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. _Bugged?_

"Bugged?" Ron asked blankly. "What… Put fleas on her or something?"

Harry began explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment. Both Ron and Madeline were fascinated, but Hermione interrupted them.

"Aren't you two ever going to read Hogwarts, A History?"

"What's the point?" Ron scoffed, "You know it by heart, we can just ask you. "

"All those substitutes for magic Muggles use - electricity, computers, and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Rita's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be…" Hermione trailed off, pondering, "If I could just find out what it is… Ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her…"

"Haven't we got enough to worry about?" Ron pointed out, "Harry is tied first with Diggory, and there is only _one task left._ Do we _have to_ start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well?"

"I'm not asking you to help!" Hermione snapped, standing up and crossing her arms, "I'll do it on my own!"

Hermione marched out of the Common Room, surely heading to the library. The two boys shrugged at each other, moving onto much blander conversations. Madeline and Fred eventually returned to their chess game.

"What was that all about?" Fred wondered quietly.

Madeline sighed, "A rather _nasty_ article was published about Hermione. Pansy and that lot were talking about it this morning."

"Ouch," Fred commented, "That Skeeter woman is a right piece of work."

Madeline nodded, eyeing the door leading out of the Common Room. She hadn't known Hermione for very long, or very well, but she knew that getting on her bad side was perhaps not the most desirable of fates.

She turned back to Fred, moving her pawn forwards, "Your move."

* * *

It had been a week since the _Witch Weekly_ article about Hermione had been published. From what Madeline had heard from Fred, who had in turn heard from Ron, Hermione had received a ridiculous amount of hate-mail, which had resulted in a multitude of visits to the Hospital Wing. In fact, a few days prior, Madeline had witnessed Hermione running out of the Great Hall with painfully blistering hands, no doubt from a nasty hex placed on a letter.

It was the following Friday. Madeline had been busy trying to make a good impression on Snape by nailing all of her essays. After all, she really _did_ enjoy potions. It was a form of magic that was easy for her; it made sense. She'd been up late the night before finishing one of his most recent homework essays off, basically sleep-walking her way to the Great Hall with her friends in the morning.

"You look like death rolled over," Daphne commented at Madeline's dishevelled ponytail and darkening under-eyes.

"You're awfully nice in the morning, aren't you," Madeline grumbled as they entered the Great Hall. She rubbed her eyes, "Seriously, Snape is going to be the death of me."

"Of us all at this rate," Theo corrected, pointedly looking at Daphne.

"My genius needs time to brew in _here,"_ Daphne explained, tapping her head, "Before being put onto parchment for you simpletons to understand."

"So you haven't started the essay?"

"Nope," Daphne replied proudly.

The trio sat down at the Slytherin table, Madeline almost instantly pouring herself a steaming cup of coffee. She really should lay off the caffeine; maybe after she'd graduated and gotten herself a lofty job as a Potions Master. Then she could create something stronger than black coffee to keep her alive.

Madeline was far too asleep to notice the odd stares the rest of her house gave her, particularly Blaise and Pansy, who seemed to be congregated around something in front of Pansy. She took a large sip of coffee, sighing in relief at the warmth that flooded into her. Although it was now March, it was still fairly cold in Hogwarts.

For a long few moments, Madeline didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. She didn't notice how the Slytherin table was slowly falling silent, or how some of the students from the other houses _dared_ to stare at her so openly from their seats. It took the ever-tactful Terence Higgs to point it out, as he sat himself down next to Daphne.

"Bloody hell Bisset, I didn't think you had it in you," Terence whistled, looking at Madeline with wide eyes.

Madeline narrowed her eyes at the boy, "It's too early for riddles, Higgs. What do you mean?"

"I mean, it takes some guts to show up for breakfast after that article," Terence shrugged, his hand reaching over to grab a piece of toast from the tall stack in the middle of the table.

Madeline's hand darted forwards, grabbing Terence's wrist and squeezing it tightly, "What the _hell_ do you mean?"

Terence looked at her in confusion, "Have you not read _Witch Weekly?_ It's all everyone's talking about."

Madeline's eyes widened. She let go of his arm, spotting a copy of the gossip magazine in front of Pansy. She quickly leant over, grabbing the magazine from the table and flicking through the pages rapidly.

"Hey!" Pansy protested, but Madeline ignored her. Instead, she desperately searched for her name, finding the article only a few pages in. Daphne and Theo leant over the magazine as the trio began reading.

_In preparation for the final task of the prestigious Triwizard Tournament: I, Rita Skeeter, have decided to personally interview students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to ensure their wellbeing._

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is no stranger to it's prestigious reputation, and it seems that it has reached overseas to our lovely neighbours in France! And here is where we meet the newest transfer student in Hogwarts; Madeline Bisset._

_Sorted into Slytherin House, Madeline made_ quite _an impression on the student body. She is described as arrogant and short-tempered by visitors of the school, which should come to no surprise when looking at her family history._

 _The Bisset Family is a very powerful French pure-blooded family, with ties to the French division of the Ministry of Magic. However, being rich and powerful of course comes with it's downfall, for it seems that the Bisset family_ also _had ties with the early beginnings of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named followers; Death Eaters. In fact, it seems that Madeline's own mother fought in the Wizarding War alongside names such as Rosier and Jugson. Perhaps the fact that she has befriended the youngest of the Nott family, another family heavily involved in the Wizarding War, suggests that this allegiance never truly went away, and perhaps has been inherited down to the youngest Bisset? Are we sure we want someone like this roaming the halls of the school_ your _children attend?_

_Madeline was, of course, sorted into Slytherin house for her self-preserving and cunning ways. A great addition to the long-line of successful Slytherin wizards. However, perhaps the most interesting anecdote of Madeline's family stems from her own parents. Rumour has it that her parents were star-crossed lovers; on different sides of the war, and only one remaining alive. A tragic story that surely cannot make for a very steady upbringing._

_Sources have stated that Madeline had befriended Harry Potter, and is in fact dating Harry Potter's best friends brother, George Weasley, also a pureblood. It is rumoured that-_

Madeline crumbled the magazine and threw it across the table, landing directly into a pitcher full of pumpkin juice. She couldn't bare to read any more; she knew Rita Skeeter would have it in for her, but to write an article, to bring her family into it… Hell, to bring the _Weasley's_ into it, albeit she _did_ get the wrong brother.

"Didn't know you'd moved onto the other twin," Terence mused dumbly, earning a sharp nudge from Daphne.

"Shut up," Daphne hissed, turning to Madeline, "Ignore that crap."

"Who's the trashy one now, Bisset?" Pansy asked smugly, mimicking the same insult Madeline had thrown at her just a week ago, "How does it feel to be knocked off your high horse? Although I think she could've done _much_ worse. I might owl in a couple of quotes myself for a followup ar—"

"Shut your pug-shaped face Parkinson," Madeline snapped venomously, standing up, "I don't care about whatever _crap_ Rita Skeeter wants to print about me."

"You're acting like you care," Pansy smirked, crossing her arms.

Madeline glared at the girl, picking up her bag and turning to her friends. She didn't need to be here, "I'll see you in class."

With a final sharp glare, Madeline stormed out of the Great Hall, not being able to bare looking at the Gryffindor table.

* * *

Madeline got through her lessons ignoring everyone and everything, except for Theo and Daphne of course. They tried to calm the hot-headed girl, but she simply reassured them that she'd be absolutely fine once she had Rita Skeeter's head on a stick.

She had received some odd looks from Gryffindor students, but Madeline simply kept her head up high. Quite frankly, it hadn't been too bad; a short article in a random page of a gossip magazine wasn't about to ruin her year. She wouldn't _let it_ ruin her year. She could deal with the odd rumour about her, as long as she held her head up high.

She avoided the Great Hall for lunch, opting to return to the Common Room and burn every single issue of _Witch Weekly_ she could find _("Yes Daphne, that includes the four-page editorial on silk wand-holders"_ ). Although she wouldn't admit it out loud, she was also most _definitely_ avoiding Fred.

She had to face the facts; his family were most _definitely_ the perfect example of everything good in the world. They were pureblooded wizards, and they didn't let that define them. He'd seen it in Ron's unrelenting hot-headedness, and in the twins own candour. Hell, she'd seen it in Ginny's fieriness the few times she'd been able to speak to the girl.

And here she was: the Bisset daughter. She was no different to Draco really; born into a family with far too much money and far too much pride. A family of cunning, of _spite_ and, most plainly, _evil._ Historically, her family history was probably tainted with more blood than anyone could bare speak about. She didn't know how involved they had been in the war, but her family could have been the kind of people who wouldn't blink twice at hexing the Weasleys if they stood in their way. Or worse.

And there was absolutely _no way_ Fred could still be attracted to her with the prying stares of his house weighing him down. There was no way he'd still want to be involved with someone _like her_. She'd heard how the Gryffindors spoke about Draco, how she _herself_ spoke about him. And she was fundamentally no different to him, really.

She knew she had to speak to him, but she decided to take the cowards route, hiding in the Common Room. She sat on the floor in front of the lit fireplace, knees drawn to her chest and her chin resting on top. She stared into the flames as the magazines shrivelled and burnt to a crisp, ignoring the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Nice article, Bisset," Draco Malfoy drawled as he stood behind her, watching the fire. He seemed to be holding an important letter in his hand, marked with the Malfoy crest. Madeline assumed he was writing back to his father.

"Shut up, I'm not in the mood," she sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. She made you out to be powerful."

"Power is nothing if it's not backed by sincerity," Madeline scoffed, "That article is designed for people to start making unfounded assumptions about me."

Draco paused, "Since when do you care what people think about you?"

Madeline turned to look up at him, "What?"

"This wouldn't bother you if you didn't care about what other people think," Draco observed, "So stop pitying yourself and stop caring about everyone else."

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, thinking for a few long moments, "Why are you being nice to me?"

"I'm not being nice," Draco answered almost immediately. His face was contorted into his usual sneer, as it always was, "The smell you've made burning those magazines is disgusting. I can barely think."

Madeline rolled her eyes. Of course, he'd always be an ass, but he _did_ have a point. She shouldn't care what other people thought about her, as long as she had the people _she_ cared about by her side. It didn't matter what Hannah Abbott in Hufflepuff thought about her, or Molly Weasley, or _anyone_ for that matter. She was proud to have such a strong sense of self, and Rita Skeeter was not going to take that away from her. And so, article be damned; she was going to go and find Fred.

"Also, your boyfriend has been asking about you," Draco drawled, "How _cute."_

"He's not my boyfriend."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Because of the article?"

"No," Madeline sighed, "Because he's just… Not."

Draco paused for a long moment. His eyes stared into the fire, refusing to look at the girl.

"Then go change that and stop moping around," he ordered, "It's pathetic."

Madeline looked at Draco in surprise. He didn't look back, and instead continued to stare into the fire. Although he couldn't see it, she offered a small smile.

Draco wasn't being nice; he was being an ally. He wasn't being a friend by any means, but he understood what it felt like to be judged by your family tree.

And so, for the first time, Madeline Bisset and Draco Malfoy understood each other more deeply than the other could explain. A connection that only they could mutually understand.

Madeline quickly stood up and left.

* * *

Madeline found herself outside of the Gryffindor Common Room once again, the Fat Lady swinging her portrait open without a second thought (something she was sure McGonagall wouldn't be happy about). Apparently, she'd also alerted the house of her arrival, which explained why she was greeted with a flurry of red hair and strong arms around her waist.

"Are you alright?" Fred asked as he pulled away, yet still kept his hands on her waist. Madeline had to work very hard in order to ignore the pounding feeling in her chest.

"Yeah, fine," Madeline managed, "So… You read it?"

"Kind of," Fred admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "But you know I don't care about that stuff, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Madeline nodded, a little flutter blossoming in her stomach, "Not even that she mistook you for George?"

Fred shrugged, "That bit was a bit rubbish; assuming George was your boyfriend."

Madeline felt her face heat up, "Boyfriend?"

"I was going to ask you before the Easter break," Fred admitted after a moment, "I get if it's too soon, but I figured since we've been spending so much time together that-"

"Boyfriend," Madeline repeated, letting the word roll off her tongue. She nodded decisively, "I like that."

Fred beamed at once, wrapping his arm around her shoulder gleefully, "Well then Bisset, you're in for hell of a ride."

Madeline laughed, the article forgotten. She really needed to stop doubting herself sometimes, especially when it came to Fred. He was unpredictable, like no one she'd ever met before.

He lead her further into the Common Room, and surprisingly, no one batted an eye at how closely pressed together the two were. Granted, it was probably expected by the way he'd rushed over.

"Madeline!" Hermione greeted immediately, rushing over to the pair, "I couldn't believe it when Harry showed me the article! Why does she have it out for you?"

Madeline shrugged, "Guess that's what happens when you rip up her notes."

Ron's attention was perked. He looked up from his place on the red sofas, "You did what?"

"She tore up the notes she made on you guys in Hogsmeade," Fred supplied smugly, "That's right, my girlfriend is a badass."

"Seriously? You did that?" Ron asked in surprise. For the first time, Ron looked past the green of her Slytherin tie.

Madeline nodded, before turning back to Hermione, "You want to find out how she's been overhearing conversations, right?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise, but nodded.

Madeline grinned, "Want some help? I'm sure two vengeful heads are better than one."

Hermione blinked in excitement, "Yes! Absolutely! Shall we start at the library after dinner? I'll show you my notes! I think that…"

Madeline half-listened to Hermione, but she was far more concentrated on the warm weight of Fred's arm around her shoulder. It made her blush, her heart skipping a beat as she realised that he was now her _boyfriend._

Although she hadn't chosen Gryffindor those many months ago at the Sorting Ceremony, it seemed to have chosen her after all.


	19. 18: Victoria Sponge

**CHAPTER 18: Victoria Sponge**

**January, 1996**

**Fifth Year**

_Daphne Greengrass looked at herself in the mirror for what felt like the first time in years._

_There was nothing different. Her hair was the same, her eyes were the same… She was still the picture-perfect Slytherin the girl other girls wished they were. Blonde hair, sparkling eyes; but, something felt different._

_No one else was in the dorm room. It was far too early in the year for many students to have returned to Hogwarts, and perhaps her solitude was something she'd designed herself, but she wasn't ready to unbox that quite yet. No, not yet. Maybe later._

_She could hear the words echoing through her head. The words she didn't quite know if she regretted yet._

_"I'm not this person."_

_"You make me reckless."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_She didn't know if she had made a mistake. She didn't know, couldn't know, and she wouldn't know for a long time. But she did know one thing, something a dear friend had told her long ago;_

_"To survive, sometimes you'd have to break your own heart."_

* * *

**March, 1995**

**Fourth Year**

Boyfriend.

Madeline had a _boyfriend._

The news had spread around Hogwarts faster than she could have ever imagined. It had started with the odd stare from unknown students, especially the mornings she'd decided to spend at the Gryffindor table, eating her breakfast next to her _boyfriend._ It soon escalated to hushed whispers and gossip, until eventually the entirety of Hogwarts was now well-aware of the innermost workings of her newly blossoming relationship. Or, well, whatever gossip they'd made up.

Madeline liked to think that nothing much had changed between herself and Fred. He was as affectionate as ever, if not more (which should be expected, really). They still joked and laughed easily, and she could still tease him about his lack of skills in Wizard Chess without feeling guilty. It all felt _easy,_ like their friendship hasn't simply vanished in favour of romance, which was a refreshing feeling for once.

Fleur had, of course, been positively _beaming_ at the news of the new couple. In fact, she had almost run up to Fred herself to congratulate him (thankfully Madeline had a strong grip and fast reflexes, and the girl did not go very far). Cedric had simply clapped her on the back proudly one breakfast, which Madeline found quite fitting. Daphne and Theo, of course, were happy for her, the former interrogating her for all the juicy details she seemed to be convinced Madeline was hiding.

And so, over the next few days, Madeline began spending more and more time around the Weasley boy. It had started with breakfast and lunch together at the Gryffindor table, under the watchful judgemental eye of Ron Weasley, escalating to shy kisses on the cheek to say goodbye. It felt comfortable, despite the awkward blushing and stuttering (from both of them, thank you very much).

But she liked him. She really did. She liked the way he could make her laugh, make her feel carefree and wild. He made her forget the looming future. The couple was by no means a favourite topic of conversation in Slytherin house, but Madeline didn't care. She wasn't _just_ a Slytherin, after all.

It was yet again breakfast. She was sat with Fred, his arm resting around her shoulders as they all laughed along to Lee Jordan's story of how he met the twins (which was rather sweet, actually). Their classes started in just a half-hour, with Defence Against The Dark Arts first for Madeline.

She hadn't particularly been _hating_ the class, unlike most of her peers. Sure, Moody had some… _Questionable_ teaching methods, but at least he didn't make them all write essay upon essay of theory work.

Madeline was halfway through her second helping of pancakes when the school owls began swooping into the Great Hall. Madeline could spot Hedwig and Pigwidgeon too, both of which swooped down to the Gryffindor table with letters tied to their legs.

"Were you expecting mail Harry?" Hermione asked curiously, although there was an undertone to her voice that made Madeline's eyebrow raise.

"Yeah," Harry nodded stiffly, scanning the envelope before quickly pocketing the letter in his robe, "I'll read it later."

Madeline found the behaviour very odd, but then again, she wasn't exactly in the know-how with the Golden Trio. Sure, her and Harry were friendly, but she didn't quite know where she stood with Hermione just yet, and Ron was a whole other sto-

_"George Weasley, explain yourself at once!"_

"Were you expecting mail?" Ron joked to George as the Howler between his hands began screaming, lifting itself into the air.

 _"How DARE YOU not tell your father and I about your new girlfriend?!"_ Molly Weasley's voice howled. Madeline could feel her cheeks heating up in embarrassment, _"And to find out from a gossip magazine! What kind of girl is she?! You're lucky I'm not dragging you home myself to explain-"_

Hermione grabbed the Howler and pushed into her goblet of pumpkin juice, muffling the screaming. She smiled at Madeline sheepishly as the Howler continued to ramble on, Fred turning to face her quickly.

"So… That's your mum," Madeline observed lamely, "She sounds happy."

"I'll explain everything when we go home for Easter," Fred explained sheepishly, "I'm pretty sure she doesn't listen to that rubbish anyway."

"Pretty sure?" Madeline asked with a raised brow.

"She has a subscription," Ron pointed out as Hermione fished out the drowned Howler from her goblet.

Madeline looked at Fred in amusement as he kicked Ron's leg under the table. She shook her head playfully, patting his arm, "It's alright; I mean, she's got the wrong brother and all, but the article is rubbish. I'm not worried."

Okay, maybe she _was_ a little worried about what her boyfriends mother would think of her, but only a _little_.

"Really?" Fred asked.

"It'll be fine," Madeline stated, fully turning back to the table and taking a sip out of her glass of water, "Gossip dies down, right?"

* * *

"Miss Bisset, a word," Mad-Eye Moody announced as the class began packing away their quills, "I'll write you a late note for your next lesson."

Madeline looked up at the Professor in surprise, but nodded in understanding. She couldn't fathom what he could possibly want to speak to her about, but quite frankly, she wasn't about to argue with _Moody._

Neville looked at her with worry as he packed his parchments away. Even Daphne and Theo turned to look at her in confusion. All Madeline could do was shrug at her friends as she too began packing her stuff back into her satchel. However, she didn't stand up like her classmates. She watched as they slowly filed out of the room, Pansy and Crabbe cackling loudly about a remark Draco had made.

Moody limped over to her desk, moving a chair to the opposite side of her desk. He sat himself down soundly, his magical eye focused on her (unsettlingly so, Madeline thought).

"I may be new to teaching, Miss Bisset, but I'm no idiot," Moody started bluntly, "You have an aptitude for this class that is rare to see in students your age."

"Really?" Madeline blurted out, her eyes widening in surprise. She'd always been clever, but not to _this_ extent.

"You resisted the Imperius curse skillfully, and your essays have been rather impressive," Moody continued. He spoke not to praise her, not by any means, but to simply state the facts he believed in. Madeline knew this, "Have you considered a career as an Auror?"

"Me?" Madeline couldn't help but laugh, "Absolutely not."

Moody leant back, thinking, "I understand your family come from a rather… _Particular_ line of work."

Madeline nodded stiffly, "The tradition would be to enter a profession in the Ministry, or something equally as high-ranking and non-practical."

Moody nodded as he unscrewed the top of his flask, taking a large sip of the mysterious liquid. Madeline had started wondering what exactly he was drinking, but she'd also heard a rumour that Moody was paranoid to the point of preparing all his food and drink himself, including his meals for Hogwarts.

"You're a talented witch," Moody continued to observe, "And you seem to be rather close with Potter."

"He's a friend," Madeline agreed, confused.

"Do keep an eye on him, will you?" Moody continued, leaning forwards, "Between me and you… I have a strong suspicion that someone might want him dead."

"What clued you in?"

"Again; I'm no idiot, Bisset," Moody continued, lowering his voice, "I was in the meeting with your mother and Dumbledore prior to your transfer. I know the whispers and the rumours circulating, and I'm sure you're aware of them too."

Madeline knew what he was talking about. The whispers of the dark ages returning, of another war. A notion left unspoken in high society, because words were not needed for the knowledge to travel. You could feel it in the air sometimes; the fear and worry. And Madeline had been ignoring it. And here was Moody, making her face it.

"You're going to have to make a choice one day, Miss Bisset," Moody continued, pulling out a late note from his coat pocket, "Keep your eyes and ears open, especially around Potter. You never know who might be lurking around the corner, and a witch with your talent is a powerful ally to have."

* * *

Her conversation with Moody left Madeline shaken for quite a few days.

Plainly, Moody had _heavily_ suggested that he believed that something dark was coming, like her mother had. _And,_ he'd also _heavily_ suggested that she should protect Harry Potter because, in his words, she was a ' _talented_ ' witch.

"Talented my ass," Madeline huffed as she stomped up to the Owlery a few days later.

She found herself in the Owlery a few days before the start of the Easter holidays. She'd received confirmation from her aunt that she was more than welcome to stay with her over the break, and has just sent an owl to her mother to inform her of this. Although the winter was still upon Hogwarts, it had since stopped snowing so heavily, meaning that Madeline had forgone her Slytherin scarf that morning in favour of Fred's green sweater.

She was busy feeding a couple of the school owls, knowing that most students probably didn't use them so close to the holidays. She pet Hedwig's head fondly, a small smile on her face. Yet, it was also a chilling reminder of the fact that Harry Potter was _definitely_ in danger, and she didn't know what to do with this information. Should she warn him? And if so, of what exactly? Were the other champions in danger too?

"Whatcha doing?"

Madeline jumped at the sound of the young girls voice, Hedwig swooping out of her little alcove and to the other side of the tower. She spun around to face none other than young Evie Sterling, the very Slytherin that Madeline had stormed the Gryffindor Tower for before the Yule Ball.

"Christ, you scared me," Madeline huffed, hand on her chest as she caught her breath.

"Sorry," Evie laughed, leaning back against one of the wooden pillar, "Preparing for the holidays?"

"Something like that," Madeline sighed, "Its like it was only yesterday we were preparing for the winter break. It feel like time is flying, you know?"

"With your new boyfriend?"

"Shut up," Madeline laughed. Over the last few months, Evie had opened up a _lot_ from the former shy girl she had once been. She was growing up to most _definitely_ become a force of nature, Madeline thought.

"Are you sending a letter home?"

Evie began blushing, rubbing the back of her neck, clearly embarrassed, "My parents are Muggles, so they don't really understand the whole ' _owl_ ' thing. I try not to send too many letters; trying to ease them into it."

Madeline nodded understandingly. Or well, she knew she couldn't truly understand how it felt to be muggle-born, but she could try. It wasn't something she believed Evie should be ashamed of, not at all. Besides, Evie held her own with her classmates _without_ needing to grow up with magic.

"Technology doesn't work in Hogwarts, does it? " Madeline asked, recalling Hermione's words in the Gryffindor common room.

Evie shook her head, "I wish. Phones would make things _so_ much easier."

Madeline nodded, rolling her eyes, "And pens. Quills are _seriously_ outdated. Although you kind of have to appreciate the whole academic allure of it."

Evie laughed, "Honestly, imagine how much more we could get done with a pen?"

"It would _blow_ McGonagall's mind."

The two Slytherins laughed heartily. If anything, Madeline was glad she knew enough about Muggle technology to be able to talk about it with Evie. It meant that the young girl wouldn't feel _completely_ alone in Slytherin.

The two were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Madeline turned to the entrance of the Owlery to find none other that Cedric Diggory, clad in his Hufflepuff tie and robes, with a stack of letters in his hands.

"Funny seeing you here again, Bisset," Cedric teased, walking to her and nudging her playfully, "Arguing with the owls?"

"Not this time," Madeline joked, turning and gesturing to Evie, "This is Evie, by the way; she's in first year."

Cedric nodded to the girl, ever-so charmingly, "Nice to meet you."

Evie didn't replied. Madeline looked at the girl in concern, noticing her flushed cheeks and wide eyes, and _oh,_ she realised. _She has a crush._

"Nice to m-meet you," Evie eventually managed, nodding shyly and tilting her head down, hiding her face away from the boy.

Cedric didn't seem phased, and Madeline realised he probably had quite a few first-years fawn over him. After all, he _was_ the original Hogwarts Champion, and Madeline could appreciate that he was attractive (but once again, _not_ her type).

"I-I need to go pack," Evie rushed quickly, moving to the entrance of the Owlery as quickly as she could, "I'll see you later, Madeline!"

And with a final shy nod to Cedric, the girl rushed down the steps of the tower and away from the two friends.

"She's shy," Cedric observed after a few moments. He made his way over to his owl, stroking the feathers of the bird as he began tying the letters to it's legs.

Madeline shrugged, "She'll grow out of it, I think. Who are you sending all those to?"

"My family," Cedric smiled, "My dad is coming to see the final task."

Madeline's eyebrows raised, "Is he allowed?"

"He's insisting," Cedric shrugged, turning to Madeline, "Are you going back to France for the break?"

Madeline nodded, "I know it's only a week, but my aunt has… _Insisted_ on seeing me."

Cedric nodded understandingly, "I mean, you've had a pretty full year."

"And you haven't?"

"Touché," Cedric smirked. He grew serious after a few moments spent in silence, "How are you holding up, though?"

"What do you mean?"

"I read the article," Cedric continued slowly, "And, uh, I can't imagine you're exactly happy about it. If it's any consolation, I made sure the Hufflepuffs used every copy we had of _Witch Weekly_ as firewood."

"I appreciate that," Madeline shrugged, "But it's not like I can Obliviate everyone to forget it. Gossip dies out eventually."

"Yeah, but I know how you feel about your family values. I know you don't believe in all that blood-purity stuff," Cedric supplied.

Madeline bit her lip. Her mind drifted back to that conversation she'd had with Cedric after he'd put his name in the Goblet. Merlin, it felt like _years_ ago. A lot had changed since then, including Madeline herself

"Cedric… Do you remember when I said my mum would rather see me marry a Muggle than a Death Eater?"

Cedric raised his eyebrow, "…Yes? Vaguely?"

Madeline sighed, looking him in the eyes, "I don't think that's true anymore."

* * *

Madeline didn't know what she'd expected from the Hogwarts Kitchens, but it was definitely _not_ what she'd imagined.

Cedric had all but dragged her away to the hidden entrance after her admission in the Owlery, clearly sensing she was in dire need of a hot chocolate, cake, and a friend that didn't live in the bed next to hers. There weren't many words exchanged between the two until they reached a painting of a fruit bowl just nearby the Hufflepuff Common Room entrance. Cedric didn't say anything, but tickled the pear in the bowl. It immediately began giggling, swinging the painting open to reveal the entrance to the kitchen.

The House Elves unsettled her, and she finally understood why Hermione had been so adamant to fight for her cause. She'd never had House Elves in France; her mother had insisted on paying chefs and maids if-and-when they needed the extra help. And to be honest, her family had more than enough money to employ the entirety of the Hogwarts staff _for years_ without breaking the bank. But seeing Elves so conditioned to serve Witches and Wizards without payment… It didn't sit right with her. She made a mental note to bring it up the next time she saw Hermione.

The two friends sat underneath the canopy of the window, legs pulled up to their chests and out of the way of the Elves as they prepared for the next meal. One specific elf, Dobby, continuously checked up on the pair until Cedric _promised_ that two mugs of hot chocolate and two slices of Victoria sponge were more than enough.

"So," Cedric began, blowing cool air over his mug, "What happened?"

Madeline sighed, leaning back against the wall, "I've been appointed as the next Head of The Family."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"It is if you know what it's implications suggest," she lowered her voice, ensuring the elves couldn't hear them, "Moody, Dumbledore, my mother… They all think something dark is coming. Moody kept me after class the other day, and basically confirmed everyones suspicions. And Rita Skeeter didn't exactly lie about my family past."

Cedric thought for a few moments, "So… You think that if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named somehow returns…"

"That I'll be first in line for a brand new tattoo, to put it simply."

Cedric took a long sip of hot chocolate, "But you have a choice."

"Do I?"

"You always do," Cedric shrugged, "I mean, from what I've heard, you're not exactly someone who'll go down without a fight. So, design your own path."

"Easier said than done."

"You won't know that until you try."

Madeline knew he was right, with his unfaltering kind eyes and warm smile. Even in a serious situation, Cedric could still find the light at the end of the tunnel. Madeline decided then that she had to change the conversation, before he became involved in something he still had a chance to escape from.

"Do you know what the third task is yet?" she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

Cedric shook his head, "No idea; they won't tell us for a while, I think. Cho reckons it'll be something to do with character or determination, or something."

Madeline wiggled her eyebrows, "How's your favourite Ravenclaw doing?"

"She's _fine_ , thank you," Cedric smiled, narrowing his eyes, "But what about Weasley?"

"He's also fine, thank you," Madeline mimicked.

"No juicy secrets? Scandalous hissyfits? Because I'm pretty sure you're the reason half of the girls in my year no longer believe in love."

"Not my fault," Madeline shrugged, "Although, I'm surprised I haven't received any major backlash from the Gryffindors. I mean, I'm in their common room more than probably allowed, and I eat with them sometimes."

"How's your house taking it?"

"Fine," Madeline sighed, "I mean, I've had the odd snarky remark from Draco or Pansy, or their goons, but most of them don't really care."

Cedric scoffed, "Wait until Quidditch season rolls around next year."

Madeline smirked, turning her head to look out of the kitchen windows. The grounds were still frosty, and if she squinted, she could spot a couple of students running around in the wintery grass. She didn't know how long she had left in Hogwarts, because although her family had allowed her to finish her studies here, she knew she couldn't truly hold that promise as certain. Not if Moody was right.

"Do you think it's true?" Madeline asked, eyes fixated on the glass, "That he'll come back?"

Cedric didn't speak for a few long moments. The only sound that could be heard was the Elves in the kitchens, running around preparing the food, and the gentle winds whizzing past the window.

Eventually, he simply held the slice of cake out to Madeline, a small smile on his face.

"I don't know," Cedric admitted, "And I'm sorry I can't give you an answer."

In that moment, Madeline realised that Cedric understood her. He understood how she tortured herself with the unknown, and he didn't judge her for the choices she might have to make one day.

Madeline accepted the cake with a smile, knowing in that moment that she'd made a friend for life. A friend she wasn't willing to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drank four coffees to get this chapter done.  
> It seems that a lot of people are worried about the little snippet I added at the beginning of Chapter 16, and what it means for the rest of the story.
> 
> Without spoiling anything, I can confirm that the snippet does not come anywhere near the end of the story. So don’t worry, the story will have a happy ending ;)
> 
> I have already written scenes that are coming in later years of Madeline’s life in Hogwarts, so I’ve began adding a few at the beginning of chapters, as I feel that the story is dragging a little in terms of this first year. I’m hoping to move onto Order of The Phoenix by the end of this year.


	20. 19: Isabelle Bisset

**CHAPTER 19: Isabelle Bisset**

"Alright, that was good, but you need to hold your wand a little firmer."

"Like this?"

"No. Relax your wrist, it'll allow you to move freely. And remember what I said about your elbows…"

Isabelle Bisset was a smart woman.

For the majority of Madeline's life, she'd assumed that Isabelle married her uncle purely to be a trophy wife by his side. However, she'd let her own prejudice cloud her judgement, unable to see exactly how _badass_ Isabelle truly was.

She'd arrived at the mansion the first weekend of Easter. Her uncle was away on an important work meeting, meaning that the two women had the entire mansion to themselves for the week. She had thought that spending the Easter break with her aunt would be fun. Or well, as fun as learning to duel could be (which Madeline had assumed would be _very_ fun). However, she hadn't exactly taken into account what type of teacher Isabelle Bisset could be.

The minute she arrived, Madeline realised that she knew far too little about her aunt.

The mansion was much different to Madeline's house, with modern furnishing and an eerie, empty gloom. However, the absence of her uncle meant that the two women had spent every day training and teaching, forgoing their day dresses and ribbons for tight black jackets and ponytails.

Isabelle had prepared the long, thin ballroom for this. The walls had been Charmed into misty mirrors, allowing for Madeline to practice with her peripheral vision. The windows had been covered with bedsheets, creating privacy (because no one in the town would ever, _ever_ imagine Isabelle Bisset duelling, or doing _anything,_ really).

Madeline had been training relentlessly to her aunts standards, which were _high_. She learnt every charm Isabelle threw at her, perfecting the wand movements for each spell until she _couldn't_ go wrong. They'd focused on defence first, because in her aunt's words, _"If you can't dodge an Unforgivable, you may as well not learn how to hit."_

And, not to brag, but Madeline was _good._ She'd always been a fast learner, it was ingrained into her by her mother. Sure, she didn't have the years of practical experience her peers did, but theory was _her thing._ Things made sense to her, and once she could visualise it, she could do it.

"Not bad," Isabelle complimented as she wiped the sweat from her forehead, her usually immaculate hair thrown up into a messy bun, "Again."

"I doubt I'm going to be using a _Tickling Charm_ this often."

"Doesn't mean you shouldn't perfect it," Isabelle pointed out, _"Again."_

And this was how Madeline spent her break; training, sweating, _pushing,_ because Isabelle was convinced she'd need to know how to duel sooner rather than later. They spent early mornings lounging around the marble breakfast counter, sipping black coffee and eating blueberries. Sometimes, Isabelle would tell her of books she'd read and stories she'd written, all collected in the mansion library, promising to give her a few before her return to Hogwarts.

They hadn't touched complicated things like _Patronuses,_ not yet. That was reserved for the summer break, where Madeline would most definitely be returning to her aunts house for a week or two, at the very least.

"Magic doesn't come from your wand, it comes from you," her aunt explained as the two circled each other, wands drawn towards the other, "Don't use your wand as a source; think of it as a way of _directing_ it."

_"_ _Expelliarmus!"_

Isabelle's wand was thrown out of her grip, clattering against the mirror behind her and falling to the floor. The older women turned to her niece, a smirk on her face.

"Not bad kiddo," she nodded appreciatively, picking up her wand, "How'd it feel?"

"The thing you said about the wand," Madeline panted, throwing her ponytail over her shoulder, "That _really_ helped."

"Lots of young Witches and Wizards rely far too heavily on their wands," her aunt explained, "Your father was one of them, even as a young man. Would always say _'the wand is the key to everything I do.'_ "

Madeline peered at the clock on the wall opposite hers; it was nearly eleven at night. She looked back to her aunt hopefully, "Could you tell me more about him?"

Isabelle turned to look at the clock, looking back at her niece with a raised brow, "Tired already?"

"It's literally nearly midnight."

"Alright, fine," Isabelle conceded, "Shall we go to the kitchen? I'll brew some tea."

* * *

The two women sat around the marbled kitchen counter, a common occurrence for the last week of Madeline's life. It was bizarre to think that she was two days away from returning to Hogwarts once again. Her time with her aunt had been brief, but she'd learnt far more with her than from most of her classes with Moody.

She sat with a steaming cup of herbal tea between her hands, her aunt with a glass of red wine. Although the two had been training for hours, Isabelle still looked as elegant as always, the stray strands of hair not in her bun falling to frame her face. She leant against the back of the counter, swishing the red wine in her glass as Madeline took a sip of her tea.

"So… What would you like to know?" Isabelle asked, sipping the wine delicately.

Madeline played with the sleeve of her black shirt, the Bisset necklace hanging proudly from her neck, "What was he like?"

Isabelle sighed, looking up to the ceiling in deep thought.

"I didn't know him very well during my time in Hogwarts. He was one of the few Gryffindors that didn't hate Slytherins with a burning passion, so we got on well enough. He was friendly with a boy I was dating at the time, and I'd seen him at some family events. His family was pureblooded too, as you know, so we'd sometimes chat at holiday feasts or Quidditch matches. I graduated a few years before him, and I didn't really pay him too much mind until him and Eloise started writing to each other.

"You see, I met your uncle during one of those business events hosted by my father. He'd attended with your Grandmother and mother, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't fall for him right there and then," Isabelle smiled fondly, clicking her tongue before her gaze dropped back to the glass of wine, "Claude began courting me soon after, and so I spent a lot of time around Eloise. She'd tell me about this _boy_ she'd been writing to, and I had no idea it was Caradoc until I saw them together at mine and Claude's engagement party.

"Caradoc grew up from the boy he used to be. He was a young man with a sharp mind and a brave soul. He'd tell Eloise all about these adventures he wanted to take her on; how he planned to _revolutionise_ the Wizarding World with all his ideas and creations. Eloise was head-over-heels, of course, and your Grandmother was just happy that she'd found someone from a good family."

Isabelle paused as she took a large swig of wine, turning to grab the open bottle and top the glass back up.

"After Claude and I married, my family passed in a tragic accident," Isabelle continued, "It was perhaps the first of many acts of violence in the name of the Dark Lord, although we didn't know that yet. Caradoc proposed to your mother shortly after leaving Hogwarts, and of course, she said yes.

"They had a long engagement, unlike Claude and I. They were taking their time. Caradoc had great plans, and Eloise supported him. You know, I remember a sneaky little rumour in my sixth year where people claimed Caradoc had begun creating secret passages in Hogwarts. No one could find any, so we thought he'd made it up, but I always thought he was _exactly_ the kind of person who'd get away with something like that."

"What happened with the war?" Madeline dared to ask, "People always tell me they were star-crossed lovers, like Romeo and Juliet."

"Ah, you've read Shakespeare. Good on you; Muggle literature has always been very creative," Isabelle praised. Her gaze wandered back to the ceiling in thought, "Yes; the First War broke out. They were going to get married; in fact, I believe they may have gone through with it secret. You'd just been born, barely a few months old when Caradoc left France to return to England. Apparently, an old friend had sent for him, asking for help."

"An old friend?"

Isabelle sighed, "As we both know, it's no secret that the Bisset blood line has always had an allegiance with the Dark Arts, or more recently, _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_. Your mother has always been a family woman, and your father a man who lead with his heart. They were on two different sides of the war, perhaps for Eloise not by choice."

"Romeo and Juliet," Madeline nodded with understanding.

"Exactly," Isabelle nodded, "I don't know what friend called for your father, but I believe they called for people all over, of all ages. Rumour has it, a movement was created to fight against the Dark Lord, and your father was at the very centre of it."

"He was that powerful?" Madeline asked, sipping more of the herbal tea.

"He was resourceful," Isabelle corrected, "And a great inventor. Eloise mentioned that he was working on something _big_ before he left for England. She never spoke about it after his death, and I never asked."

"But he didn't die; he disappeared."

"Kiddo, believe me," Isabelle began immediately, "That man loved you and your mother more than _anything_. If he survived, he would've come home."

Madeline nodded solemnly. As a kid, she'd always held out hope that maybe, _maybe_ her father had still been alive. But as she grew up, and as she learnt more about his disappearance, she began to accept the truth.

"He disappeared during the war," Isabelle continued, "Some of his friends said he was heading north towards Scotland, others think he may have been going to Hogwarts. His body was never found, but he never returned, and that same day, the Death Eaters carried out attacks much like the one that killed my own family."

 _He's gone_. Madeline accepted this as truth, and she knew this. But sometimes, it was hard to remember.

"Your mother was inconsolable at first, but you were her whole world," Isabelle continued, "Claude and I would help her at first, through her grief during the war. When the Dark Lord was defeated, she moved back to the family house with your grandmother, and they raised you together. And here you are."

"And here I am," Madeline breathed, more for herself than for her aunt.

"You should be proud of your family," Isabelle continued, "Not just to be a Bisset, but to be a Dearborn as well. I'm not sure on your fathers family roots, but I do know his parents were Welsh. Have you ever been to Wales?"

Madeline shook her head, "No, not really. I never managed to reach out to my father's side of the family."

"Maybe that would be a good place to start," Isabelle observed. She watched Madeline with steady eyes for a few silent moments, before placing her glass down. She turned to Madeline with a serious gaze in her eyes.

"Look, kiddo. All the spells in the world can't protect you if you don't know what you're fighting against, or _why,"_ Isabelle began, crossing her arms, "Women like us; we're exposed to toxic misogyny all our lives. From dressing up for balls and events to the pressure of finding a husband, it's all to distract us from what's actually happening, because families with old values like ours don't put women in a position of power unless it serves their interest."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a bright kid; you know something is coming," Isabelle continued, a fire blazing in her eyes, "And between us two; I don't think my husband has our best interest at heart when he decided you'd be the next Head of The Family. You need to stay alert, and trust _no one."_

"Not even you?"

"I'm different; I have nothing to lose," Isabelle shrugged, holding the glass up, "And I drink like it."

And in that moment, Madeline saw her aunt as a woman who had lost her family and learnt to survive. A woman who recognised her worth as more than just a wife; more than just an accessory. She was smart, cunning, and resourceful, and _hell_ of a good duellist.

She could make the world cower at her feet, and she chose not to.

"Thank you, for everything," Madeline said honestly, "For training me, for letting me stay here-"

"Kiddo, you're welcome here anytime," Isabelle interrupted her, "And you better live up to your promise of visiting me in your summer break."

"Definitely," Madeline promised.

Isabelle smiled, a warm motherly smile that could almost echo Eloise's own, "Alright, it's getting late, and tomorrow is our last day together. Off to bed, the both of us!"

* * *

Madeline returned to Hogwarts for the final weekend of the Easter break. She returned with sore limbs and a full heart, and hell of a lot more knowledge on duelling magic than she could possibly explain.

She found herself in an alcove underneath a window in the Gryffindor common room with Fred, a mug in each of their hands as they sat opposite each other on the bench. Hermione and Ron were sat around the fireplace, Lee and George in their dorm.

"How was your birthday?" Madeline asked, waving her wand over the mug to stir the tea.

Fred shrugged, "It was alright; mum made a cake, and we spent the day playing Quidditch."

"I shouldn't have expected anything different."

"She's fine about you, you know?" Fred reassured her, "I explained what happened with Rita, and now she's dying to meet you."

"Is that better or worse than her hating me?"

"I have the right to remain silent."

Madeline nudged her boyfriend playfully, "Oi!"

Fred laughed, flicking the hair out of his eyes, "Honestly; she'll love you. You have nothing to worry about."

"Even with Ron's bi-weekly rants about me in the common room?"

"Yup."

"Even with Seamus demanding my head on a stick?"

"Even better."

"Even with my unrelenting ability to piss all of your mates off?"

"Now, that's kind of hot."

Madeline laughed, the kind of laugh where you throw your head back and forget anyone is listening. Being with Fred felt easy; it made her feel light, _weightless._

She didn't notice Harry at first, but the sound of the common room door slamming closed alerted the young couple. They both looked up and to Hermione and Ron whilst Harry began furiously whispering something to them.

Madeline turned to Fred, "Shall we be nosy?"

"Absolutely."

At once, and in sync, the couple stood up and made their way over to the Golden Trio. They perched themselves on either end of the long red sofa as Hermione continued her ramble, each holding their mugs close to them.

"It comes down to this," said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. "Either Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Viktor wasn't looking. "

"Viktor was attacked?" Madeline asked in confusion.

"What's Mr. Crouch doing in Hogwarts?" Fred asked.

"Viktor and I found him in the forest, completely mad and asking for Dumbledore," Harry explained quickly, lowering his voice, "He kept saying something about Voldemort, the words ' _getting stronger,'_ and something about that missing woman in the Daily Prophet."

Madeline felt a chill run up her spine at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. Sometimes she forgot that few Wizards, like Harry and Dumbledore, were brave enough to speak his name out loud.

"Crouch must've attacked him," Ron interrupted at once. "That's why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He's done a runner. "

"I don't think so," muttered Harry, shaking his head. "He seemed really weak - I don't reckon he was up to _Disapparate_ or anything. "

"You can't Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven't I told you enough times?" Hermione scolded.

"Okay. . . hows this for a theory," said Ron excitedly. "Krum attacked Crouch - no, wait for it - and then Stunned himself!"

Madeline scoffed, Hermione chiming in coldly, "And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?"

"Oh yeah…"

"Nice try," Fred mocked, messing up Ron's hair teasingly.

"Harry, you should write to… You-know-who," Hermione slowly suggested, eyeing Madeline wearily.

Madeline didn't take too much offence to Hermione's distrust. Instead, she turned to Harry, "Did you find out what the final task is?"

Harry nodded, "They told us earlier; It's a maze. They're going to place the The Triwizard Cup in the middle. The first Champion to touch it gets full marks."

"Well that's easy," Madeline observed, "Just stick to the left and run like hell."

Fred nodded alongside her, "Or you could fly your way to victory again."

At that precise moment, George came tumbling down into the Common Room, a grin on his face and a letter in his hand. He waved wildly at his twin.

"I hate to break this tea party up, but we've got some… _Business,_ Freddie," George suggested strongly.

Fred looked at his brother and nodded once, turning to Madeline, "See you at dinner?"

"Sure," Madeline nodded as Fred hastily placed a kiss on her cheek (both ignoring Ron's disgusted expression). She turned back to the trio, "I better get going. But uh, good luck with the whole Couch thing."

"Crouch!"

"Same difference, Ron."

* * *

The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was looking forwards to the third task, which would take place a week before the end of term. Madeline had heard from Fred that Harry had been practicing hexes at every available moment. She knew Fleur had been busy doing the same, whilst Cedric could be spotted running laps around the lake with Viktor Krum.

Madeline had offered her help to both Harry and Cedric, both of which politely declined. Madeline was sure it was because they didn't think she could be of any help. After all, she hadn't told anyone about her training with her aunt. Her and Fleur, however, spent a nice little chunk of time together practicing the _Four-Point Spell_ , which would allow Fleur to see if she was going north whilst in the maze.

"I'm _bored,"_ Daphne huffed one afternoon, throwing herself back onto the Slytherin sofas.

"Woe is you."

"Shut up, Theodore."

Madeline rolled her eyes at her friends, "How can we possibly entertain you, my dear Daphne?"

"The third task is in a few weeks," Theo suggested, "Can you hold out that long?"

"Absolutely not."

"Can't you go snog Terrence then?" Madeline suggested.

"Nope; I broke up with him."

Theo and Madeline looked at each other in shock, before spinning their heads back to Daphne. Theo was the first to speak, "You _what?!"_

"Why?" Madeline asked in confusion, "You guys were getting on really well. Didn't you send home a letter about him?"

Daphne shrugged mysteriously, pulling herself up to a sitting position, "I realised that I didn't really fancy him, you know? It's weird to explain; it's like, I know he's attractive, but he's not my type."

Madeline didn't understand, but she nodded nevertheless. "How'd he take it?"

"I think he saw it coming, to be honest," Daphne sighed, leaning back, "I kind of feel bad, but we're still mates. I think."

"That's good," Theo snorted.

And true to Daphne's word, Terence Higgs _had_ taken the breakup incredibly well. The coming of June meant warmer weather, meaning a lot of the Hogwarts students now took to the outdoors for their breaks.

And that very same evening, the Slytherin Trio spotted Terence Higgs cozying up to a fifth-year Ravenclaw under one of the canopied trees in the Courtyard.

Daphne had simply shrugged at the sight, "As long as he's happy, it's none of my business."

Madeline wrote home that same night to arrange for her return to France. She'd be leaving the same day as her friends to return to France for the summer. It had already been confirmed with Dumbledore that she would be returning the following school year, news that Daphne and Theo celebrated animately.

The Slytherin Common Room became busier as the end of term drew closer. Those who had exams would either study together in the common room, or take it to the library if they preferred some peace and quiet. The younger years, including Madeline's year, busied themselves with boardgames and their final pieces of homework.

Madeline and her friends had crammed together with Pansy and Blaise on one of the larger study tables, all trying to work their way through Snape's final heap of assignments before the holidays. It was an unlikely group, but they worked together well enough.

"This is rubbish," Blaise huffed, dropping his quill onto the table dramatically, "How are we meant to know _any_ of this?!"

"We've barely done any practical work this year," Theo observed, "Mixing antidotes is complex and advanced, sure, but we've only brewed them once or twice."

Pansy simply huffed in annoyance as she continued to scribble wildly on her parchment. Madeline and Daphne had eventually given up on their own essays, instead flicking tiny little balls of paper to each other across the table. The group worked in silence for a few more minutes before the sound of a chair scraping across the floor interrupted them.

"You all look dreadful," Draco Malfoy observed as he pulled himself in between Pansy and Blaise.

Madeline rolled her eyes, "You can't say much yourself."

"Are you here to study with us Draco? I could help you," Pansy asked hopefully, her brooding frown flipping into a smile.

Draco scoffed, "I don't need help."

"Then shove off," Madeline interrupted, glaring at the boy.

Draco smirked, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, "I'm surprised you're even here, Bisset. You're basically a Gryffindor now, aren't you?"

"Why? Jealous _you're_ not the one spending time with Potter?"

Daphne and Blaise quietly laughed, the latter earning a sharp nudge from Draco, "At least I'm not a house traitor."

"Because I'm dating someone, and you're not?" Madeline snapped, "Because it's not my fault no one can stand you long enough to even go on a date with you."

She didn't know why Draco got on her nerves so quickly, but he did. It was something about his arrogant little smirk; the way he already _knew_ he could so easily annoy her. Sure, he'd been civil to her right up to before the Easter break, but all things came to an end eventually. _She couldn't stand him._

"Bloody hell, stop flirting," Blaise joked, but he was unable to stop the two housemates from glaring daggers at each other.

Eventually, Madeline stood up, pushing her chair back dramatically, "I'm going to get us food from the Great Hall."

"Take your time."

"Shut up, Ferret."

* * *

Madeline had managed to sneak into the Great Hall right as dinner began appearing on the tables. She'd grabbed a tray of sandwiches and a bowl of fruit before sneaking her way back down to the dungeons.

Students often ate in their common rooms, more commonly during exam season, but she wasn't sure how kindly Snape might take to a fourth-year sneaking that much food down to the dungeons. Nevertheless, she quickly made her way to the common room.

She had just managed to get to the staircases when she once again found herself bumping into something, or well, someone. In fact, it had been the same short blonde girl she'd seen those many weeks ago. Thankfully, she didn't drop the tray of food.

"Sorry," the girl spoke softly, a ridiculous pair of pink glasses perched on her face, "I wasn't looking at you."

"Clearly," Madeline muttered. She went to move past the girl, but her soft dream-like voice stopped her.

"Have you figured out how yours work yet?" she asked, tapping her own pink glasses.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, "What are you talking about?"

"Spectrespecs," the girl replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world, "You've got some."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Madeline stated, confusion evident in her face, "But, uh, I should go before these sandwiches get… Stale."

The blonde girl shrugged, turning away. Madeline noticed she still wasn't wearing any shoes, and she figured the glasses didn't help with finding them all that much.

Madeline rushed her way back to the Slytherin Common Room, making a mental note to ask Theodore what the hell _Spectrespecs_ were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the time jumps in this chapter, but we're nearly at the end of Goblet of Fire! I have a MASSIVE document open at all times with the full plot written out, and wow you guys are in for a ride.
> 
> I've been in isolation for the last few days (but I don't have COVID, don't worry!), so I'm hoping to actually get to the end of GOF before Christmas!


	21. 20: The Third Task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W: Canon events. Grab your tissues

**CHAPTER 20: The Third Task**

The night before the Third Task, Madeline once again found herself in the Hogwarts kitchens with Cedric Diggory.

She'd found him a few hours before in the library, cramming over dozens of Charms textbooks, desperately trying to find a miracle spell to help him with the tournament. Madeline had eventually pried him out of his seat and down to the kitchens with the promise of a hot drink and a friend to talk to, which he was very grateful for.

"It's not like I'm unprepared," Cedric began. The two were in their same spot in the kitchen underneath the window, however the kitchens were deserted at this time. Madeline had managed to scrounge up two mugs of _Conjure Cocoa_ and a couple of custard cream biscuits, "But my family are coming to watch, and that's a whole extra layer of pressure, you know?"

"I mean, you've battled a dragon and come out the other side pretty unscathed," Madeline pointed out, "I doubt a maze will be much harder than that. Besides, I don't think Dumbledore or Hagrid would purposely put any of you guys in danger. You're going to be fine, trust me."

Cedric smiled, a sort of half-smile that meant he didn't really believe Madeline, but he appreciated her nevertheless, "You'd string me up yourself if I let fear stop me."

"Exactly," Madeline nodded, drawing her knees up to her chest, "So, this is what's going to happen tomorrow; you're going to enter that maze, find the cup, and later on after you've celebrated with Cho or the Hufflepuffs or whatever, we're going to come back here and stuff our faces."

Cedric raised his eyebrow, "Is that a promise?"

"Only if you win," Madeline winked. She raised her mug to Cedric, "Which you will."

Cedric smirked, raising his mug to knock against hers. "A toast to victory?"

"To victory," Madeline nodded.

Cedric rolled his eyes, "You have far too much faith in me."

"And you don't have enough."

Cedric scoffed. He drew his knees up to his chest, resting his head on top of them and turning to look out of the window. The Hogwarts grounds were dark, not a slither of light to be seen except for the moon; bright and full.

"It's not just my family," Cedric eventually admitted, "Ever since this tournament started… I was fine just being ' _That Guy'_ in Hufflepuff who could play a pretty mean game of Quidditch, but now it's like I've got the entire houses reputation on my shoulders."

Madeline raised her eyebrow, "That's a bit dramatic."

"Hufflepuffs have always been quite happy being unseen and unheard, but people have started noticing us, and it's because of me," Cedric rambled, "If I don't win, it just feeds into the stereotype that Hufflepuffs are useless. And if I win, I bring a sort of glory to Hufflepuff that hasn't been seen in _decades."_

"A house doesn't make a person useless," Madeline argued, "In fact, I'm a strong believer that _no one_ is useless. So you value different things to me; so what?"

Cedric didn't reply; he simply kept staring out of the window.

"I'm sick and tired of us assuming things about each other based on a stupid crest," Madeline huffed, "Us two are friends, although we shouldn't be if we listened to our house stereotypes. So, stop putting pressure on yourself and stop being an idiot. You're going to smash the next task, because the Goblet of Fire picked you for a reason."

Cedric looked up at Madeline with a soft smile on his face, a few moments of needed silence between them. Eventually, Cedric spoke.

"You know, I'm really glad we're friends."

Madeline rolled her eyes, "Stop being such a sap."

"No, I'm being serious," Cedric insisted, "And we're going to _stay_ friends, okay?"

"You say that now-"

"We're going to write to each other over summer," Cedric continued, "And you're going to cheer me on during the next Quidditch season, even if I'm playing against Slytherin. And we're going to give tearful speeches at each others weddings which will be equally emotional and awkward, and-"

"Okay, I get it," Madeline laughed, nudging the boy with her foot, "Seriously, stop being a sap."

Cedric grinned, "Friends for the long run, yeah?"

Madeline rolled her eyes at her friends ridiculousness, but nodded with a smile on her face, "Yeah, alright. For the long run. Till death do us part, or whatever."

* * *

" _Spectrespecs,"_ Theo began reading from an old book as the trio made their way to breakfast the next morning, _"Are a magical item that allow the wearer, if a Wizard, to see invisible magic. The strength of this item depends on the manufacturer. Some will show simple magics, while others are more tailored to show more complex magics, such as potion effects and invisible creatures."_

Madeline shook her head _,_ "I definitely don't own anything like that."

"Well, this is literally the only mention of them that I could find _,"_ Theo explained, holding up his copy of _'101 Magical Items You Didn't Know Existed'._

"Why are you researching something like that anyway?" Daphne asked.

"This weird girl said I had-"

"Hold on," Daphne snapped, grabbing Madeline's arm, the trio now standing to the left of the entrance of the Great Hall, "You've met _Loony Lovegood?!"_

"Who?"

"Blonde hair, Ravenclaw, third year," Daphne began listing, but Madeline simply shrugged, "Pansy was talking about her the other week; apparently, she's like, _loopy."_

"Sounds like her," Madeline nodded.

"Don't listen to a word she says," Daphne firmly shook her head, "Trust me; she's as mad as a hatter. You're wasting your time."

Madeline looked at Theo, who simply shrugged, "Don't look at me, I've never met her."

"Guess all that research was for nothing," Madeline eventually sighed, "Sorry, Theo."

The trio entered the Great Hall, the excitement palpable in the air. Although there were still lessons planned for the day, everyone was far too excited with the prospect of the final task taking place in the afternoon. Breakfast was clearly going to be a very noisy affair, especially for the Gryffindor table.

"I'm going to check on Harry," Madeline told her friends, who both knew what that meant.

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Have fun with Fred."

"Shut up," Madeline laughed, "I'll see you guys later."

Madeline made her way to the Gryffindor table. When she'd first started sitting with Fred, she'd had a sea of stares and glares behind her. However, it seemed that things had calmed down significantly, the sight of the Slytherin at the Gryffindor table no longer a subject of gossip, which she was rather thankful for.

"Morning," Madeline cheerily greeted as she slipped between Fred and Lee.

"There she is!" Lee greeted cheerily, "Our favourite snake!"

"He's kidding," Fred amended, slipping his arm around her waist.

Madeline pouted, looking up at Fred, "Am I not your favourite snake?"

"Crabbe beats you, sorry."

"Oi!"

"Morning Madeline," Hermione greeted politely as she sat herself opposite the couple, Ron and Harry on either side of her, the latter of which looked as pale as a ghost.

"Blimey mate, you don't look too good," George, who was sat on Fred's other side, pointed his fork at Harry.

"Cheers," Harry grumbled, beginning to pile breakfast onto his plate as owls began to swoop into the room, delivering their daily lot of mail.

A copy of the Daily Prophet fell between the small Gryffindor group (for Hermione, as usual). Hermione unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.

"Merlin!" Madeline shrieked, lifting her plate away from the table, "Warn a girl next time!"

"What?" said Harry and Ron together, staring at her.

"Nothing," Hermione quickly tried to shove the paper out of sight, but Ron grabbed it. He stared at the headline for a few moments, "No way. Not today. That old cow."

"What is it?" Madeline asked, placing the plate back on the table slowly.

"Nothing."

"It's Rita Skeeter again, isn't it?" Harry asked, "It's about me?"

"No," Ron lied, attempting to push the paper out of sight.

While he was distracted, Madeline managed to lean over the table and grab the paper. She'd barely unfolded it when the grating sound of Draco Malfoy's voice interrupted her, shouting across the Great Hall obnoxiously.

"Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling alright? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"

"Pansy needs to seriously put him on a leash or something," Madeline groaned.

Draco was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet too. Slytherins up and down the table were sniggering, twisting in their seats to see Harry's reaction. Daphne and Theo seemed rather uncomfortable, but were also curiously reading the paged of the newspaper.

"Let me see it," Harry insisted to Madeline.

Madeline looked at Hermione and Ron for help, before very hesitantly placing the paper back on the table. She unfolded it, and the small group began reading.

**_'HARRY POTTER: DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS'_ **

_'The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School._

_Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying._

_It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potters brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion._

_"He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention. "_

_The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public._

_"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."_

_Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."_

_Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening.'_

"Gone off me a bit, hasn't she?" said Harry lightly, folding up the paper.

"It could be worse," Madeline tried, "I mean, she used an alright picture-"

"Yeah," Fred nodded enthusiastically, but clearly neither of them helping.

Over at the Slytherin table, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were laughing at him, tapping their heads with their fingers, pulling grotesquely mad faces, and wagging their tongues like snakes. Madeline rolled her eyes at their immaturity; Pansy _seriously_ had to invest in some leashes.

"How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" Ron asked, "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard-"

"The window was open," Harry suggested, "I opened it to breathe."

"You were at the top of North Tower," Hermione shook her head, "Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"

"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" Harry snapped, "You tell me how she did it!"

"I've been trying!" Hermione snapped back.

Madeline nodded, "Seriously Harry; we've been through every book in that library that even _mentions_ eavesdropping, the Daily Prophet, or her name. _Nothing._ Theres no charm, no technology, and no spell."

And it was true. Madeline and Hermione had been spending a couple of hours every week in the library together after their final lesson of the day. They'd been through every possible book they were allowed to grab, and yet, _nothing_ to explain how Rita Skeeter had been getting her information.

An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over Hermione's face. She slowly raised a hand and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked, frowning at her.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. She ran her fingers through her hair again, and then held her hand up to her mouth, as though speaking into an invisible walkie-talkie. Harry and Ron stared at each other, Madeline watching the girl carefully.

"I've had an idea," Hermione eventually admitted, "I think… I've had an idea, but I need to check something in the Library. Madeline, can you come with me?"

Madeline nodded halfway through sipping her coffee, clumsily placing the mug down. She squeezed Fred's hand under the table, hastily grabbing her bag as she tried to keep up with the bushy-haired girl, who was now racing to the doors of the Great Hall.

* * *

"I've got it!" Hermione exclaimed quietly. She pulled the stack of books from the shelf onto the bench Madeline had been sat at, flicking through the pages quickly.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, "Hermione, I promise you that I don't doubt your genius intellect, but are you sure-"

"Find the section on visitor rules," Hermione ordered as she passed Madeline a copy of _'Hogwarts, A History'._

"Don't you have this thing memorised?"

"Hurry up!"

"Alright!" Madeline agreed, taking the book from Hermione.

The two read in silence for a while, Madeline scanning the pages, but she wasn't exactly sure for _what._ Eventually, as she reached the second book, Hermione let out a short shriek of joy.

"Blimey!" Madeline whispered, "What have you found?"

"Harry was right about bugging," Hermione grinned, holding up a worn old file, "Read this."

Madeline raised her eyebrow at the print at the front of the file, "Hermione, what are you doing with a census on Animagus?"

Hermione didn't respond. Instead, she looked at Madeline expectantly. And then it clicked.

"She's an Animagus?!" Madeline asked. Her eyes widened, "There are no rules on registering visitors as Animaguses in Hogwarts."

"She's an _unregistered_ Animagus," Hermione explained, flipping the folder open, "See? Her name isn't anywhere on any of these censuses. If you're not registered-"

"It's illegal," Madeline finished, gaping at Hermione, "You're a _genius."_

"I'm pretty sure she's been turning into a beetle, but I can't be certain. Animaguses have patterns on their animal form that resemble something about their human form," Hermione began wondering, "We both need to keep an eye out for her, alright?"

Madeline nodded, "Let the hunt begin."

* * *

Okay, so Madeline hadn't been expecting to meet her boyfriends parents anytime soon. In fact, she was planning on holding off the event for as long as she possibly could. She wasn't an idiot, she knew that the _Witch Weekly_ article about her was still in circulation. Sure, Fred had reassured her that his mother didn't believe it, but the doubt was still there at the back of her head.

However, it seemed the universe was _not_ on her side that day.

The days classes had _dragged,_ to say the least. Madeline had been busy trying to shut Malfoy and his goons up, going as far as hexing their chairs in History Of Magic with a Jelly-Jinx, causing the trio to end up on the floor more often than not. Even with her newfound entertainment in tormenting the three boys, Madeline was still rather nervous for the looming task ahead.

She walked to the Great Hall for an early dinner with Theo and Daphne by her side, as usual. She spotted Fleur up ahead as they entered the hall, the girl clad in her Beauxbatons uniform and with a twinkle in her eyes. She quickly grabbed Madeline, pulling her to the side of the hall.

"I'm going to marry him one day," Fleur hissed excitedly. It wasn't a dream or a desire, it was a statement.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, "Is the Tournament making you loopy?"

"No; look!" Fleur explained, pointing over at the Gryffindor table.

Madeline turned in confusion, scanning the table. There was nothing out of the ordinary, not rea- _Oh_.

She spotted the man after a few moments, sat between Harry Potter and Ron. He was _clearly_ one of the older Weasley siblings, Madeline assumed Bill from the descriptions Fred had given her. Fleur _clearly_ had no objection whatsoever to the long hair or earrings with fangs on them, the dreamy look in her eyes a testament to that.

"Yeah, you're going to marry him," Madeline agreed eventually. She'd never, _never_ seen her friend so enamoured by someone.

And that's when she spotted her; Molly Weasley, sat across from Harry and next to Ginny, with a warm smile on her face as she passed around the boat of gravy.

Madeline felt her blood run cold.

"You should go say hi to her," Fleur suggested in a whisper, nudging her friend, "Make a good impression, yeah?"

"We'll see," Madeline swallowed, turning back to Fleur, "But good luck for later, yeah? You're going to smash it."

Fleur smiled, giving her friend a long, warm hug. The two separated with a final nod, Fleur hurrying over to the Ravenclaw table, where her younger sister and her mother were animately catching up.

Madeline took a deep breath, wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt before lifting her head up high. She was a _Bisset_ for Merlins sake! She could say hi to her boyfriends mother, easy!

She took deliberately slow steps as she approached the Gryffindor table, ignoring the confused glances from the older Gryffindors. Thankfully, before she reached the little group, Fred spotted her, standing up and rushing over to her.

"I had no idea she was coming to watch Harry," Fred whispered, "You don't have to-"

"Let's just do it," Madeline smiled a little forcefully, "Rip the bandaid off, or whatever."

Fred hesitated, but eventually nodded, grabbing her hand. He gave her a tight squeeze before leading her over to his family, and more specifically, Molly Weasley.

"Mum," Fred began, catching his mothers attention. Madeline stepped up next to him, hands still interlocked, "This is Madeline-"

"Oh, darling!" Molly exclaimed at once, standing up with a bright smile, "Look at you; you're stunning! Oh, bless you; that article was horrible!"

Madeline found herself frozen, simply nodding dumbly, "Uh- yeah, I'm not exactly Rita Skeeter's favourite person right now."

"Sit! Please, sit!" Molly insisted, patting the empty spot next to her, "Let's get some food in you, shall we?"

_Alright, this isn't as bad as I thought._

Madeline sat herself between Fred and Molly, still a little on edge despite Molly's seemingly warm welcome. She was definitely _motherly,_ if anything. She began reaching for a pitcher of pumpkin juice, but Molly's voice quickly interrupted her.

"I had _no idea_ Caradoc's daughter was at Hogwarts," Molly confided to her quietly, "I thought your mother had decided to homeschool you, so when Fred said you were a Bisset-"

"You knew my father?" Madeline interrupted, eyes wide.

Molly smiled, "Of course! Caradoc was a great man with a great mind; a true inspiration to the Order."

Madeline frowned in confusion, "The Order?"

Molly looked as if she'd revealed some great secret. She quickly cleared her throat, turning back to the table, "Nothing, don't you worry. Shall we eat? You must be starving, Harry. Are you nervous?"

Madeline was left rather confused, but it seemed that Molly had removed her focus from her. Or at least, for now. All in all, it wasn't a bad first meeting.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin!" Ludo Bagman announced.

Madeline was tightly sat between Theo and Daphne on one of the higher benches in the stands surrounding the arena. Fred and George were busy making the rounds between the benches, trying to sell their products as well as various sweets and chocolate. Although it was June, the evening air had grown a little chillier, so the Trio sat closely together.

"This is exciting," Theo observed plainly, "We get to watch and do nothing, again."

"Let me remind you how the points currently stand!" Ludo Bagman continued loudly, his wand pointed to his throat to amplify his voice, "Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!"

The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. Bagman called the stands to silence, "In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place - Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Madeline cheered particularly loudly for Fleur. She could see Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione applauding Fleur politely, halfway down the stands from her.

She looked at the Champions, all dressed in either their house colour, or their school colour. Madeline waved at Cedric, who spotted her immediately and waved back at her. Cho Chang was just a few meters to the left of Madeline, grabbing Cedric's attention soon after. The two shared wide smiles, something that filled Cedric with determination.

"So… On my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" Bagman announced. He held the whistle to his mouth, "Three - two - one -"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze.

An obnoxious trumpet-lead song began playing as Cedric and Harry entered the maze, the Hogwarts students cheering wildly. Madeline managed to catch a glimpse of Cedric as he turned to the right, before disappearing entirely from her vision.

"How long do you reckon this'll last?" Daphne wondered.

"One of them is bound to find the cup eventually, even by accident," Theo offered, eyeing Viktor Krum particularly hard on that last comment.

Fleur and Viktor were eventually let into the maze some time after the first two champions, leaving the audience to watch in anticipation as the four made their way through the maze. Some of the teachers were patrolling the outside of the hedged maze, including Moody and McGonagall, whilst Snape and Flitwick stood at the top of the stands, overlooking the arena.

The audience soon fell into idle chatter as they awaited for the first Champion to return. Daphne and Theo had been passionately discussing something, Madeline wasn't sure what. Her mind had wandered, blocking out the chatter around her.

The Champions had been in the maze for at least an hour, no one could blame Madeline for getting bored easily. She idly played with the necklace around her neck, the gold of the tear-shaped pendant interesting her far more than a motionless maze. She traced the edge of the shape over and over, a habit she'd picked up recently, especially in class.

Suddenly, Madeline felt a burning sensation on her finger.

She took her hand away from the necklace, gasping at the stinging sensation. She looked down at her finger, shocked to find a tiny little burn on it, now dissolving away into her skin, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Madeline turned to her friends to see if they'd seen anything, but to her surprise, they were still engrossed in their conversation. She turned back to watch the maze, holding her breath as she spotted something rather odd.

Whilst her friends hadn't heard or seen her little accident, it seemed that Mad-Eye Moody, who was standing at least twenty feet away from her, _had._

It was sheer luck that Madeline noticed the flask laced by his side as he turned away from her, licking his lips as he continued to watch over the maze. It was sheer luck that she also spotted Luna Lovegood on the other side of the stalls, the pink glasses balanced over her head. And it was absolutely, _completely_ sheer luck that Madeline had an idea.

She slowly lifted the pendant to her right eye, closing her left eye and peering through the necklace like a monocle.

The word echoed in her mind.

_Spectrespecs._

Luna had been _right._ Madeline didn't know how the blonde girl had figured it out, but she _had._ Because as she peered through the tear-shaped pendant, Madeline found herself looking at a whole other world.

Well, not _exactly_ another world. It was as if everything had a pink hue, the faces of the people around her disappearing, leaving only their outline. It was like she was seeing everything through deep, fuzzy rose-tinted glass. She spotted a couple of tiny little fairy-like creatures floating around where Luna had been, as well as a golden line tracing the outside of the maze. Madeline realised that must be a containment charm, to ensure the creatures in the maze stayed inside. She looked around the arena in amazement, recalling what Theo had told her.

" _A magical item that allow the wearer, if a Wizard, to see invisible magic."_

She continued to look around in awe; if her father had made the pendant and enchanted it, he really must've been a great wizard.

And then she saw it.

Moody, or at least who she assumed was Moody, was chugging from his flask again. Except, through the lens of the pendant she could now see a bright red aura around him, shining the brightest from the flask.

Madeline took the pendant away from her eye, confirming that it was in fact Moody. She furrowed her eyebrows. There were very few potions that required the drinker to drink so frequently; not even medical potions required more than one dose. And it was _definitely_ a potion. She began recalling the things Moody had said to her over the months;

_"You're a talented witch, and you seem to be rather close with Potter."_

_"Do keep an eye on him, will you? Between me and you… I have a strong suspicion that someone might want him dead."_

_"You're going to have to make a choice one day, Miss Bisset. Keep your eyes and ears open, especially around Potter. You never know who might be lurking around the corner, and a witch with your talent is a powerful ally to have."_

"Flattery is the tongue of the liars," Madeline whispered to herself. Her eyes shot up, falling onto Moody, and she realised;

_Polyjuice Potion._

There was no other explanation. She'd heard the rumours about Snape's storage cupboard being broken into, and Moody had always _been here._ It would explain why he had to continuously drink it. Moody had been the one to suggest Gillyweed to Neville, he'd told her this. Whoever was pretending to be Moody must've been a skilled Wizard.

They must've been the person to put Harry's name in the Goblet.

"Mads, are you okay?" Daphne asked, noticing her friends shocked expression.

Madeline didn't reply. She spotted Snape halfway down the steps of the stalls, near the Weasleys. She ignored her friends confused expressions, standing up and hastily making her way down to the Professor. She had to be right, she _knew_ she was right.

"Professor!" Madeline began calling, "Professor Snape!"

Snape turned around at once, a frown set on his face. The moment he saw Madeline rushing over to him, his frown turned slightly concerned.

"What is it, Bisset?" Snape hissed, trying not to attract more attention than Madeline already had.

"It's Moody," she whispered, finally noticing the odd stares the students were giving her, including Molly Weasley, "It's not him. He's not-"

Before Madeline could continue, a sudden sharp pain erupted in her head.

Madeline shrieked, crumbling to the floor as she clutched her head. She could hear her own frantic heartbeat in her head, a burning behind her eyes so strong that they started watering. It was as if someone was splitting her brain open, like everything was being engulfed in fire.

Her eyes were closed; she _knew_ her eyes were closed. But suddenly, she could see.

A graveyard. Harry, trapped. A circle of men, all with black capes covering their faces.

_Something rising._

She didn't know how long she'd been on the floor, but she eventually came back to consciousness as the pain faded away from her head. When she eventually managed to open her eyes, she was surrounded by both Fred and Snape, both of which were crouched in front of her. Fred had his hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly as she panted heavily.

"-Okay," Madeline began tuning in to what Fred was saying, "You're okay. You're fine."

"What the hell," Madeline muttered, rubbing her head.

"Are you alright?" Molly Weasley's concerned voice broke through the haze in her head. She blinked, fully coming to her senses.

Shakily, she got back to her feet with Fred's help, his hand on her elbow ready to catch her. Snape looked at her sternly, his face unmoving from his usual frown.

"Bisset, what was it?" Snape asked sternly, Moly casting the man a disbelieving look.

"She just collapsed, Severus!" she protested, "Give the girl a break!"

"No, he's right," Madeline interrupted. She met Snape's eyes, the same urgency as before returning, "Moody. It's not him, the flask is Polyjuice Potion. He's the one-"

Madeline was interrupted by the same obnoxious trumpet music that had begun the event. It caught everyones attention, everyone turning to watch as the first Champion returned with the cup.

Applause flooded the arena as the sight of Harry's red Gryffindor uniform was seen, the Triwizard Cup clattering on the floor next to him. The music played louder, Ludo Bagman preparing to announce the winner of the tournament.

The only thing that cut through the fog of loud noise was Cho Chang's piercing scream.

At once, it seemed that every set of eyes in the audience had fallen on it; Cedric Diggory, lying in the grass beneath Harry.

Dead.

Madeline's heart burst into pain incomparable to the one she'd just experienced. It was as if she were floating, watching as Cedric's dad ran through the crowds to his son. She barely registered as the music faded, screams and cries echoing through the stands as more and more students saw the terrible sight before them.

Madeline's necklace burned dully around her neck, the only thing anchoring her to reality. She could faintly feel Fred's grip around her, pulling her to his chest, but she made no move to reciprocate the hug as she felt tears stream down her face.

People continued to shriek around her, "He's dead!" "He's dead!" "Cedric Diggory! Dead!"

_"My son!"_

The sound of Amos Diggory finally reaching his sons body was what broke her. All at once, it felt like the world had come back in full force, the pain in her chest unbearable. She dug her face into Fred's shirt, wrapping her arms around him, sobbing hysterically into his chest.

A part of her wanted to keep watching, to catch the final glimpse of her best friend, but the sight of him, unmoving in the grass, was far more painful. Fred simply held her tightly, rubbing her back, trying to console her as best as he could. He didn't speak, because he knew nothing he could say would bring the boy back.

She missed Moody pulling Harry away and to the castle. She missed McGonagall her wand madly over the maze, attempting to find the other Champions. She missed Daphne and Theo's frantic footsteps as they ran down to her. She missed Snape spotting Moody and Harry's absence, venturing to the castle himself.

Her aunts words run in her head.

_"All the spells in the world can't protect you if you don't know what you're fighting against,"_

And in that moment, with her best friend dead a few feet away from her, she realised an important truth.

_He's back._


	22. 21: Cedric Diggory

**CHAPTER 21: Cedric Diggory**

A few hours after the end of the Third Task, in the early hours of the morning, Madeline unfortunately found herself in Dumbledore's office.

She was numb. Fred had dragged her to the Slytherin Dungeons with Daphne and Theo, the two friends taking her into her dorm and allowing her to grieve in privacy. But she didn't cry, she simply stared at the ceiling numbly, letting the world go by around her.

_Cedric Diggory is dead._

Although the Slytherins weren't particularly known for their empathy, no one slept that night. The girls in Madeline's dorm had taken to the common room, sitting with the younger students with warm drinks and blankets Theo had found in a chest. Draco and his goons had gone back to their dorm room, none uttering a word to each other. An eerie sense of finality was in the air; there was no excitement for the end of the Tournament. No one would dare.

At about midnight, Snape had come to the common room, asking for someone to fetch Madeline and bring her to Dumbledore's office.

Soon after arriving to Dumbledore's office, she found out that she had been right; the Moody she'd known had been none other than Bartemius Crouch Junior, an escaped Death Eater who's sole goal was to ensure Harry made it to the end of the maze. The real Alastor Moody was safe and sound in the Hospital Wing, found by Dumbledore not long before.

Madeline could almost feel Hogwarts grieving. Not the students, but the castle itself. Everything felt cold and sad, as if a little piece of the life that Hogwarts once breathed had vanished. Cedric had touched more hearts than he'd ever known.

"If I thought I could help you," Dumbledore said gently, shaking Madeline out of her daze, "By putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it."

"He's dead," Madeline muttered, "I could have figured it out sooner-"

"You saved Harry's life by figuring it out in the first place," Dumbledore interrupted her gently, "Had it not been for you telling Snape about your suspicions, we may not have found Harry in time. You showed incredible-"

"Someone still ended up dying," Madeline interrupted lowly, her eyes downcast to the floor, "I should've never let Cedric compete."

"Madeline, please look at me," Dumbledore asked. Madeline found herself lifting her head, looking at the old man through his half-moon spectacles.

"It has never been a secret that you were brought here for your safety, and it seems that the very thing we all fear the most has come to find us," Dumbledore began. He crossed his arms on the desk, "Hogwarts will do all it can to keep you safe, and you've already saved someone yourself, wether you intended to or not. Now, we cannot let Cedric's death be in vain. You are not responsible for his death, Madeline."

Madeline sat in silence for a few moments, eventually nodding.

"I need you to tell me how you figured it out," Dumbledore finished.

Madeline found her hand reaching for the Bisset necklace. She wanted nothing more than rip it off her neck, but she didn't. Instead, she held the pendant tightly in her hand.

"The necklace my mother gave me," Madeline began lowly, "The one my father made her; I don't know how Luna figured it out, but she called it something; _Spectrespecs._ An item like that allows you to see invisible magic. I kind of just… Put it to my eye. I don't know why."

"And you saw the potion effect," Dumbledore nodded in understanding, "I see."

Madeline rubbed her head. She needed to stop thinking about Cedric. Instead, she began thinking about her friends; she _couldn't_ let anyone else die. Not if she could help it.

"So, now what?" Madeline asked, a newfound determination in her voice, "Because I'm pretty sure we're both well aware that _he's_ back."

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment. He leant back in his chair, his arms crossing over his lap, "I believe, my dear, that he is."

Madeline wasn't shocked; she'd known it deep down. The Dark lord had killed Cedric, and had risen again. And now, everything was about to change. _She_ was about to change

"I'm an idiot," Madeline sighed, rubbing her eyes, "I should've known something like this was going to happen when my mum sent me here in the first place, and it still happened. I didn't do enough, I could've-"

"You're still young," Dumbledore interrupted her once again, "You're a young woman who is being forced to grow up too fast."

"Things are going to change now," Madeline sighed. Suddenly, she remembered something. Her eyes widened in fear; "I collapsed in the stalls, and my necklace started burning. It was right before Harry got back; do you think-"

"You are not connected to the Dark Lord," Dumbledore shook his head, "Don't worry dear. You are in possession of a magical item; perhaps the use of the portkey activated it. After all, it was created using a large amount of magic."

Madeline nodded doubtfully; it made sense, but she knew it wasn't right. She huffed, "There truly is danger at every corner, isn't there?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly, "I'm afraid, my dear, that you are at the centre of it all."

Despite the blaring need for sleep, Madeline's head shot up to look at Dumbledore. She faintly heard the sound of the door locking as Snape stepped into the room, moving to stand by Dumbledores side silently.

"My dear Madeline," Dumbledore continued. He folded his hands together on the desk, "I regret to tell you that there is a target on your name. Your mother tried to protect you from it, but it seems it has followed you here. One day, perhaps soon, you will have to choose a side. I cannot tell you which side to choose, but I can only hope you follow your heart."

"Professor, I think I've made it pretty clear that I'm not about to willingly waltz over to the dark side," Madeline snapped irritably, "Please, just _tell me_ what's going on!"

Dumbledore kept his calm composure, ignoring Snape's pointed gaze. "I knew your father quite well, especially during the war. He was far smarter than his years, and also very proactive. So much so, that he predicted his own death."

Madeline's eyebrows furrowed, "…What?"

"She's not ready," Snape interrupted, "She's too young, you cannot expect-"

"I will decide my own fate, thank you very much Professor," Madeline interrupted, glaring at Snape defiantly. She turned back to Dumbledore, "Cedric died tonight. You said it yourself Sir, we cannot let it be in vain. So, tell me what I need to do."

Snape looked at Dumbledore pleadingly, an unspoken tension between them. Eventually, Dumbledore turned back to the girl, as calm and composed as ever. Snape was not pleased.

"Your father predicted he'd be a prime target in the war," Dumbledore began, "He was smart; he prepared. He hid something very important from everyone, even your mother. Something he swore no one would be able to find. Apart from one person."

Madeline looked at the Headmaster in confusion, "Who?"

"His daughter."

"Excuse me?!" Madeline looked shocked, "I don't-"

"We have no idea what this item is or where it is, but we have reason to believe that if The Dark Lord truly is back, he will stop at nothing to retrieve it," Snape interrupted irritably, moving to stand next to Madeline. He looked down at her, "It is the key to something much bigger than yourself, Miss Bisset."

"You're still not telling me the whole truth," Madeline snapped, rising to her feet. She was angry; angry that the two people who were here to look out for her were _still_ lying to her, "A boy _died_ tonight; a _friend._ And if it really was _Voldemort_ to kill him, then I'm not about to stand idly by as he destroys everything good about this world!"

The two Professors remained speechless as she continued, "So, _Professors,_ what do you want me to do?!"

The two men stayed quiet, studying the girl carefully. Neither seemed phased that, for the first time, she used the Dark Lord's name so freely. Madeline could feel her chest rising and falling as she panted, her fists clenched tightly. God, she was _angry._ Angry that people were making decisions for her; that there were still secrets no one would tell her about. Angry that her friend, one of the _best friends_ she'd ever had, was now dead at the hands of Lord Voldemort.

She was angry.

Dumbledore smiled gently, "All I ask is that you keep that fire within you burning, Madeline. And wield it wisely."

* * *

The next few weeks were a blur.

Madeline found herself floating from class to class, barely registering the world around her. She managed through her final essays and assignments numbly, Theo and Daphne trying their best to cheer the girl up once again. Eventually, they realised the best way they could help her was to be there for her, which is exactly what they did.

Eventually, she started seeing the world in colour again slowly, but it took time.

Even Draco had backed off, no longer searching for Madeline as the target of his taunts and jokes. In fact, when she wasn't with her friends, Madeline had been spending hell of a lot of time in the Gryffindor common room. Fred, George and Lee were the first to manage a smile out of the girl, and Neville would often sit with her by the windows, neither of them speaking, but just appreciating the other's presence.

Her and Fred had grown closer as well, spending evenings in the Gryffindor common room, Madeline reading while Fred worked on new products and ideas. He'd finally confided to her about his and George's plan to have a joke shop after Hogwarts, and of course, Madeline had been in full support.

The Golden Trio, specifically Harry, had decided to lay low for the rest of the year. No one had forgotten the particularly horrible article Rita Skeeter had written about him, and now rumours were flying rampant about Harry's sanity. Madeline knew he was right; The Dark Lord was back. But, she knew voicing this out loud wouldn't be a good idea.

In fact, most of the school skirted around her too. Perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how Cedric had died, especially those who had witnessed her breakdown in the stalls just minutes before Cedric and Harry had returned from the maze. She didn't mind people avoiding her. In fact, she found she didn't care very much. She liked it best when she was with her friends, or Fred. They knew she needed time to grieve, and they gave her space to do so.

"Harry's coming back to the Burrow with us this summer," Fred began one evening as the two sat around a chess table, mugs of tea steaming on the table, "You could come along, you know?"

Madeline pursed her lips, thinking. Eventually, she shook her head. "I need to go back to France, at least for a little while. Perhaps I could come join you later in the summer?"

Fred smiled, nodding enthusiastically, "I'll let my parents know."

Although she tried her best, Madeline didn't manage to catch sight of Luna for the rest of the year. She had a sea of unanswered questions for the blonde girl, but no answers to be found. In fact, she also couldn't find Cho Chang anywhere. Eventually, she _did_ find out from Daphne that the Ravenclaw had decided to return home early for the summer, which was more than understandable.

A highlight of the final weeks of term was Hermione's capture of Rita Skeeter. The girl had whispered the story to Madeline in secrecy, explaining how Rita, now in her water beetle form, was trapped in a magic jar in her dorm room. Madeline had found it hilarious, promising to keep the secret.

Eventually, the end of term came. Madeline packed her trunks with a heavy heart, joking along with Daphne as the two exchanged addresses to write to each other for the summer. Even Pansy had been particularly nice to her, a rare sight to be seen in Slytherin, but not an unwelcome one.

The Leaving Feast, which was usually a cause for celebration, felt rather melancholy to Madeline. Looking back to the first time she'd stepped into the Great Hall, she'd become a completely different person. She felt like she'd lived, albeit she'd also lost. She'd experienced things she'd never dreamed of in her sheltered little French villa, and her heart yearned to return back in September, even with all the pain it had been through.

Harry and Madeline had avoided being in the Great Hall when it was too full, preferring to eat when it was nearly empty to avoid the stares of their fellow students. Madeline had broken the rule on occasion to sit with her friends, those who didn't think she was completely mental, but she couldn't help but gaze at the Hufflepuff table every time she entered, the spot Cedric had once occupied remaining empty.

When the Slytherins entered the Great Hall, Madeline noticed at once that the usual decorations were missing. Instead, black drapes lined the wall behind the teachers' table, candles floating lower and above the students heads. A mark of respect to Cedric.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. And really, who could blame him? Professor Karkaroff's chair was empty; rumours had been circulating about his whereabouts, especially with the Dark Lord's return. Durmstrang had been left without a headmaster.

Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next to Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table, sitting next to Professor McGonagall, was Snape, who had been keeping a watchful eye over the young Bisset

Now, the funny thing about the events of the Third Task was that Snape had begun looking out for Madeline. He was no longer hard on her in classes, no longer snapping at her. He kept a watchful eye on the girl, despite being far away from her.

"Bloody hell, I'm starving," Daphne sighed as the trio sat in their usual spots at the Slytherin table. Tracy and her boyfriend sat further along the table with Terence Higgs, who was now dating that girl from Ravenclaw. Draco, Pansy and Blaise all sat themselves next to the Slytherin Trio, Crabbe and Goyle following suit.

"Contain yourself, Greengrass," Theo joked lightly.

"So, Mads," Daphne began, leaning forwards towards the girl, "How'd you rate your first year at Hogwarts altogether?"

"Honestly?" Madeline scoffed, "Despite the… Obvious; not that bad, actually." She caught Draco's eye, smirking to herself, "Including Malfoy's tendency to get himself transfigured into a ferret."

Pansy and Blaise snorted loudly, Daphne bursting into a full cackle. Draco simply glared at the girl, "Watch it, Bisset."

"I'm watching, and I'm not seeing much," Madeline shrugged, cheekily sipping her pumpkin juice. However, before Draco could reply which what was sure to be a scathing remark, Dumbledore took his place at his podium, the room falling into silence.

"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "Of another year here at Hogwarts."

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall. No one had seen the sea of yellows for a while, actually. They had suffered a great loss, Madeline was sure.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

Madeline felt her heart clench at the sound of his name. She was the first Slytherin to stand, her pumpkin juice in her hand. The benches scraped as everyone in the Hall followed suit, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."

Madeline didn't notice the tears pooling in her eyes until she spotted Fred looking at her through the crowd of Gryffindors, and sent him a reassuring smile.

Yes, she'd always miss Cedric, but she'd be okay. Eventually.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

Madeline's eyes widened. She looked around the crowd of Gryffindors, scanning for Harry. And indeed, Harry was watching the headmaster with wide eyes.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

Madeline closed her eyes as a panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror, but Madeline knew the man to be perfectly calm. As she opened her eyes, she ignored the prying eyes of her housemates, and continued to watch the old man.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

Madeline nodded to herself in agreement. Everyone was starting at Dumbledore now. Well, everyone but Draco Malfoy, who stood to her right.

"Blundering mad old man he is," Draco whispered to Crabbe and Goyle, both of which snickered quietly.

Madeline felt a searing hot rage pool in her stomach. Without attracting any further attention, she swiftly kicked Malfoy in the shin, keeping her eyes on Dumbledore. No way was that arrogant, slimy little ferret going to ruin Cedric's memorial.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

"Oh bloody hell," Madeline muttered to herself as swoops of whispers echoed through the hall. Most eyes turned to Harry, who seemed to be cowering under everybody's gaze.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," continued Dumbledore, bringing the attention back to himself. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honour him."

Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Cedric's, and drank to him.

But Madeline did not.

He showed bravery, sure. But she was not about to honour him in the same way they were honouring Cedric's memory. And for that, she soundly placed her goblet on the table. It seemed that a lot of the Slytherins had been watching her, following suit. This of course, did not go unnoticed by Harry.

When everyone had once again returned to their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournaments aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemort's return - such ties are more important than ever before."

Madeline could see Fleur's silvery blonde hair at the Ravenclaw table. She'd be saying goodbye to her soon, with the promise of seeing each other over the break in France. In another universe, she would've been one of those Beauxbatons girls, returning to France with just a bad memory and a bad year. But here she was, clad in green and silver.

"Every guest in this Hall," continued Dumbledore, his eyes lingering upon the Durmstrang students, "Will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open."

"It is my belief- and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder," Dumbledore looked directly at Madeline, offering her a small smile, before returning to the room, "A week ago, a student was taken from our midst."

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

Madeline held her necklace in her hand as Dumbledore spoke his final words. No matter where she ended up, she'd treasure Cedric's friendship forever. He'd been kind, true and good; the opposite of what many had expected Madeline to be when she'd arrived at Hogwarts. All but him, who gave her a chance from the first time they met.

She'd miss him forever, but eventually, she'd be okay.

* * *

Trunks had been packed and goodbyes had been given. Madeline stood in the courtyard, hugging Fleur one final time as the Beauxbatons students prepared to re-embark into their carriage.

 _"Write to me when you're back in France,"_ Fleur demanded immediately in French, holding Madeline's hands, _"We'll see each other, yes?"_

 _"Of course,"_ Madeline replied with a smile, _"And you can tell me all about that Bill-"_

 _"We're just writing to each other,"_ Fleur rolled her eyes, _"Nothing more."_

 _"We'll see when the wedding rolls around. I want to be maid of honour,"_ Madeline joked. The two friends hugged once more before Fleur turned, rushing off to say her final goodbyes to the Golden Trio.

Madeline watched the world unfold around her. Viktor had just given Hermione a slip of paper with his address, promising to write to her. Evie Sterling and a young muggle-born Durmstrang boy seemed to be swapping phone numbers, a funny occurrence in Hogwarts. Madeline eventually spotted Theo and Daphne, both sat with their luggage on the steps of the Entrance Hall.

Madeline walked over, her own luggage already loaded into a carriage. She snuck behind her friends, squeezing between them with a laugh. Something the two friends had missed hearing.

"Summer," Madeline mused dramatically, wrapping her arms around each of her friends, "Here we come."

"Speak for yourself; you're going back to France!" Daphne rolled her eyes, "Sunny vineyards, nice cheeses-"

"I never said you couldn't come visit," Madeline winked, smirking at Daphne's excited expression.

"Yes!" Daphne gasped, "Absolutely! We're definitely coming!"

"We?" Theo teased.

"Oh shut up, you know you want to go."

"We'll see," Theo joked, leaning back onto the steps.

Madeline grinned at Daphne, "So, Greengrass; favourite moment of first year?"

Daphne paused dramatically, rubbing her chin. Eventually, her eyes sparkled with a memory, "That time you put an exploding sweet in Draco's goblet."

"I have to agree," Theo nodded, "That was pretty clever."

The three friends sat silently, looking up at the sky. It was another beautiful summer's day. Madeline found it hard to believe that she'd soon be back in France with her family, entering her old life once again. But it was okay, because she'd return to Hogwarts that September.

Because Hogwarts had become her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOBLET OF FIRE IS D O N E!
> 
> It's been hell of a ride to write this first part of the story, and I cannot thank all of my readers enough for the INCREDIBLE support I've received through all platforms I've posted this story on!
> 
> However, I do have one favour to ask of you guys;
> 
> Please, PLEASE share this story if you've enjoyed! There is nothing more rewarding than waking up to notifications of reviews and comments you guys leave. I want to continue this story right through to Deathly Hallows, and I hope to be able to bring as many people as possible on this journey with me.
> 
> I'll probably be taking a few days to post the beginning of Order of The Phoenix, purely so that I can map out the structure of the plot nicely. But I promise you that this new section of the story… Well, it's going to really pick up, and I can't wait.
> 
> Thank you all! Please comment, review, anything you'd like!


	23. 22: A Short Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AND HERE BEGINS THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX ARC!

**CHAPTER 22: A Short Summer**

* * *

**_January, 1975_ **

**_The Gryffindor Common Room_ **

**_Hogwarts_ **

_Caradoc Dearborn sat at the Gryffindor fireplace, quill in hand as he elegantly wrote on his finest pieces of parchment. He smiled wistfully into the flames, his heart poured out onto the pages. Never had he met such a beauty, with a sharp mind and cunning smile. She'd bewitched him with a simple glance, he was sure, for he could not imagine there to be any feeling more intense than this._

_"_ _Are you writing to your_ girlfriend?" _Mary Macdonald teased, skipping over and throwing herself onto the sofa next to her best friend._

_The sofa jolted as she jumped next to him, but thankfully his quill didn't run across the papers. He rolled his eyes, "She's not my girlfriend."_

_"_ _Ah, but you want her to be," Mary corrected him, her arms behind her head as she threw her feet onto the coffee table, "So tell me; are her eyes_ dazzling? _Does she spin golden thread?"_

 _"_ _You read far too many muggle fairytales," Caradoc laughed, "No. She's sharp. And witty. And knows the ways of the world far better than I think the world itself does."_

_Mary raised her eyebrow, looking at her best friend carefully. She sighed, and nodded, "You love her."_

_Caradoc traced the edge of the paper in his hands, a small smile on his face, "Not yet. But perhaps soon, I will."_

_The moment between the two best friends was unfortunately interrupted by the sound of pounding footsteps. The two Gryffindors turned around, spotting some of the younger years running down the Gryffindor boy's room. One of them had a folded map in their hands, waving it around out of the others' reach._

_Mary rolled her eyes. She knelt onto the sofa and looked at the boys sternly. After all, she'd always had a knack for catching attention._

_"_ _Lupin! Cut it out!"_

* * *

Madeline spent her summer rather productively, she thought.

As soon as she'd returned to France, the summer had sprung. The hot rays of sun bounced off every wall and every leaf, not a cloud in sight when she was near. She spent a long few days lazing in the gardens with a book, as she always did in the summer seasons, fruit always freshly washed in a bowl next to her and her coffee always topped up to the brim. Her mother and grandmother didn't join; they much preferred the coolness of the shade that their patio provided. And besides, the two women had been… _Delicate_ around Madeline. They'd received news of the events of the Triwizard Tournament before she'd returned to France. And so, understandably, they gave her space to grieve.

Madeline tried to move forwards. She didn't forget Cedric, of course not. She _couldn't._ But she was far, far away from the cold grounds of Hogwarts and the warm, inviting fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room. She could imagine herself, just for a few moments, to be a young witch who had not suffered such grief so early on in life. For a few moments, she could look up to the sky and imagine herself to be spending her days basked in warm sunlight and free from any care.

When the gentle summer rains would eventually come, she began lessons with her grandmother. They were not in academic subjects, but rather in poise, dignity and grace. Madeline had grown far too wild for her grandmothers taste (although she hadn't changed _too much,_ she didn't think), and soon found that the new fire in Madeline's eyes could not be extinguished quite easily.

About a week into the first month, her grandmother discovered why.

A letter came for Madeline from a certain _Weasley, F._ And after the look on Madeline's face, Alodie and Eloise soon realised that Madeline had a _boyfriend._ Eloise had been ecstatic, asking for every detail of their relationship, but Alodie had simply been happy that Fred's lineage was pureblood and somewhat-honourable. (She was also quite certain they would not last, but she wouldn't speak that out loud, of course.)

And so began Madeline and Fred's exchange of letters.

At first, they would tell each other of their homes. Madeline would describe France from a visitors eyes as best she could, conveniently leaving out the parts where she'd attend some fancy event, or where her mother would complain about the new staffing. In turn, he'd tell her about the Burrow, about his seemingly-endless family tree, and how Molly often shouted at the lot of them for not taking their elbows off the table.

The stories would then turn into anecdotes of their weeks, or childhood stories they hadn't mentioned before. Fred's invite to the Burrow still loomed over Madeline invitingly. He'd mentioned it a few times, and Madeline had agreed at every mention.

However, as the weeks passed, several events occurred that made the summer quite a… Peculiar one.

* * *

**July 8th**

Madeline arrived at her aunt and uncle's house bright and early that morning.

She was greeted with a flurry of breakfast and hugs. Her uncle had rushed out the door the minute she'd opened it, a fancy briefcase in his hand as he explained he was needed for a week away for business, again. Of course, Madeline had known this, and had planned the trip in accordance.

"Your hair has grown," her aunt observed, twirling the dark hair between her fingers as her husband shut the door behind him, "And your freckles are back."

"It's only been a few months," Madeline laughed, swatting her aunts' hands away playfully. Her trunk was being carried away by two maids, which she'd learn later were newly employed.

The two women sat around the kitchen island for quite some time. Madeline told her about Fred, and Daphne and Theo, and how the latter two were set to visit her later that month. Her aunt told her all about new books she'd began reading, almost bragging about the quantity she'd read since she'd last seen her niece, and promised to fill a trunk with worthy novels for Madeline's return to Hogwarts.

Eventually, and perhaps inevitably, the conversation shifted to the end of the last school year.

Or, more specifically, Cedric.

Isabelle Bisset seemed to have waited until she had the chance to dismiss her staff for the day. Despite the early morning, she promised a full-days pay, and insisted on having the mansion alone with her niece. The minute the front door shut once again, Isabelle grew serious.

"Alright," Isabelle began. She folded her manicured hands on the countertop, preparing for the hard conversation ahead, "Tell me everything."

And she did. Madeline told her aunt about how close she'd been with Cedric. About the evenings spent in the Hogwarts kitchens, and how he _understood_ that blood didn't equate to morals. She explained how _good_ he was, and how knowing him made her want to be good, too.

Talking about his memory was the hardest part. Madeline had detached herself from his death, because as much as she wanted to honour him, it was still painful. But she persevered, explaining what had happened; how the necklace had revealed Mad-Eye Moody for an escaped Death Eater, how she'd collapsed, and how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was most likely back.

Isabelle listened in silence, taking everything in. Her nails dug into her knuckles at the mention of the Dark Lord, but she did not let any emotion show in her face. She was good at that; hiding behind a persona. Madeline wished she had the skill to do that.

"Do you know who Robert Frost is?" Isabelle asked once Madeline had finished the painful story.

Madeline nodded, "A poet."

Isabelle stood. She walked to the fridge, producing two cold glasses (she insisted the fridge was the best to keep them cool), and a bottle of peach iced tea, "He once said, _'In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on'_."

Madeline said nothing as her aunt began pouring the tea into the glasses.

"I know it hurts, but it will pass," Isabelle continued softly. The orange of her blouse seemed to catch the rays of sun filtering through the windows. It was barely past ten in the morning, "But if the Dark Lord truly is bad, loss and grief will follow him like a shadow. We will lose people, but _we need to go on_. For them."

Madeline nodded solemnly, but still said nothing.

"I can't tell you what will happen next," Isabelle admitted, swirling her own glass of iced tea. Her gaze was fixated on her niece, "But I can help you prepare. I can teach you everything I know. Women like us, we need to learn how to survive. But more importantly; how to _live."_

Isabelle took a long swig of the cool drink.

"That's why I cherish the little things," she winked, tapping the glass with one of her nails, "If your grandmother knew the things I was capable of, she'd have a fit."

Madeline smirked at her aunt. It was true. Madeline too had underestimated Isabelle Bisset once. She had thought of her as a trophy wife for her uncle to parade, but she had much more soul and much more strength than any man she'd ever met.

"Now, drink up," Isabelle grinned, placing her empty glass on the counter, "We've got work to do."

* * *

_Maddie,_

_Everything is the same as always here at the Burrow. Mum has been frantically knitting since the Triwizard Tournament. I swear, she's made enough jumpers for a lifetime (and there's a few here for you, too)._

_George and I have tried a few prototypes of products for the worked, but a few might need your genius mind. How does one balance flavour and explosion? Well, you're the answer to that in many ways._

_We haven't heard much from Harry, but I think he's alright. He knows he's welcome here at any time, he'd rush over if there was a problem._

_How's your aunts? I know you said she was quite… Intense?_

_Lots of love,_

_Freddie._

* * *

**July 12th**

"I can't do it."

"Yes, you can."

"We've been here for _hours."_

"Only four of them."

"It's literally past midnight."

"Then wake yourself up and let's try again," Isabelle instructed sternly.

They were once again in the ballroom, windows covered and mirrors gleaming. Candles floated above their heads, much like they did in Hogwarts, casting a golden glow to the room.

Madeline had been working tirelessly to try and master the _Patronus_ charm. It was hard, harder than anything her aunt had ever taught her before. They'd been working on it for days, but for some reason, nothing had worked. No memory seemed warm enough or strong enough.

"Try a different memory," her aunt instructed. However, at her niece's expression, she got an idea, "Actually, close your eyes and lower your wand."

"That does not sound like a good survival technique."

"Trust me," she replied, to which, Madeline closed her eyes.

"Okay. Ignore everything that we've done in the last few days. Pretend this is the first time you've done this. Your wand is familiar, but you need to find a new memory. Something untouched; something so precious you _preserved_ it."

Madeline began thinking. She'd run through every childhood memory, every moment she'd spent in France, but nothing. It wasn't a memory, she didn't think. It must be a feeling, something special and untouched, like her aunt had said.

She began thinking of Hogwarts. She remembered the warm feeling of the Great Hall that first time she'd stepped in. Eating breakfast with Fleur in the Courtyard. Sitting with Cedric in the kitchens. Kissing Fred on the Quidditch field.

But then, something flooded her mind. It was no particular memory, just a passing moment, but she saw it clear-as-day.

Her, Daphne and Theo, all sat on the couches of the Slytherin Common Room. Daphne had made some sort of witty remark, which Madeline had said an even wittier reply to, and the trio had burst out laughing wildly. Even Theo, ever-so-composed, had tears forming at the corners of his eyes. They had ended up on the floor in fits, Draco Malfoy sneering as he walked past, yet a small smirk could still be seen on his face from their contagious laughter.

Her special memory, her _untouched moment_ , was her friends, and how they made her feel warm and wanted and _happy._

 _"_ _Expecto Patronum."_

Madeline didn't need to open her eyes to know it had worked. She could feel it, like electricity coursing through her very soul. In that moment, she knew that even if the world were to tip and everyone fell off… If the Dark Lord even _dared_ tear apart her perfect moment, she'd always have that feeling to hold onto.

"Impressive," Isabelle commented lightly, nudging her niece, "Look at it."

Madeline opened her eyes, and gasped.

A thin wisp of silvery-blue had begun at the tip of her wand, moving upwards and expanding. It was pure magic, like nothing Madeline had ever seen before. And slowly, the magic moved and changed, forming into something. It took a few moments, but at once, Madeline saw it.

The wisp became longer and thicker, but somehow more solid, and began splitting into three smaller whisps at the end. It began coiling and recoiling, and three heads finally appeared.

It was a three-headed snake, otherwise known as-

"A Runespoor," Isabelle observed, "They use their eggs in potions."

Madeline thought it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

The Patronus eventually began disappearing, but only after it had wrapped around it's own body protectively. Perhaps, it had heard Isabelle's words. Madeline knew why it has been a a Runespoor; three heads for three friends.

"Bloody hell," Madeline eventually breathed from exhaustion, lowering her wand, "Can we get dinner now?"

"It's one in the morning."

"And who's fault is that?"

"…Better late than never."

* * *

_Freddie,_

_I can't wait to add more knitwear to my collection. Great timing as well; the summer was getting a little too chilly for my liking (sarcasm intended)._

_Of course I'll help. Send me over some recipes and I'll look over them._

_Ah; The Boy Who Lived, keeps on living! I should sell that headline to Rita Skeeter; she'd use it as well._

_My aunt has been… Fine. It's been intense, but I wouldn't change her for the world. She's become obsessed with iced tea in every (literally every) flavour. It's worrying. I didn't know so much of it existed._

* * *

**July 15th**

"The car is coming in like, ten minutes," Madeline complained as she followed her aunt up the narrow wooden stairs of the mansion attic.

"And your uncle will be home in twenty," Isabelle replied, flicking the light switch of the attic, "I can't believe I forgot about this until today."

"About what?" Madeline asked, ducking under a low beam above the stairs. She hesitantly followed her aunt into the attic, the door squeaking open, like it hadn't been touched in years.

Madeline looked around in awe at the wooden attic room. The beams were low, but were used as shelves for smaller items such as textbooks and chess sets. The entirety of the walls were lined with furniture covered in white sheets, or stacks of cardboard boxes. A few books sat untouched on a dresser near her, a light sheen of dust on top. She wiped the dust away with her sleeve, peering at the cover as her aunt hurried around the room.

The novels were in a different language, one Madeline didn't understand. She wondered if they had been her aunts, or perhaps her uncles. Or maybe, even her fathers.

"When your father passed, we moved a lot of his stuff to this attic. Your mother found it too painful to go through all of his belongings," Isabelle explained, unveiling a tall wooden wardrobe. She unlaced the ribbon keeping the two handles together, opening one of the doors, "Your uncle went through all of his stuff, but I managed to grab a few bits."

"Like what?" Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, approaching the wardrobe. Her aunt had knelt onto the floor, knocking on the bottom panel of the wardrobe. Eventually, the panel tilted and popped open.

Isabelle removed the plank of wood, revealing a secret compartment. She removed a shoebox, laced in the same red ribbon the handles had been tied with. Carefully, she undid the knots in the ribbon.

"I found this stuffed at the back of one of his bookcases," she began explaining, "If your uncle had found it, he probably would've destroyed it, so I hid it. I'd completely forgotten about it until earlier."

At once, Isabelle opened the box, and Madeline gasped.

"An _Invisibility Cloak?!"_ she asked in disbelief, "My dad had one of those?!"

Isabelle nodded, holding the fabric up, "We figured he'd lost it, because he never mentioned it or anything. The only reason we knew he had one was because he'd use it to sneak to the Owlery to send your mother letters in the evenings. And, by birthright, it should be yours."

Madeline hesitantly took the shoebox, looking at the shimmering fabric in awe. It didn't look too worn or in bad condition, but she knew that the invisibility charm would fade over time. She wondered how long this one had left, despite it being in such good condition.

"Thank you," Madeline breathed, "But, are you sure?"

"It wouldn't feel right for me to use it, and your uncle would get rid of the thing immediately," Isabelle smiled, "Honestly kid; it's yours to take."

* * *

**July 24th**

"I love it here," Daphne Greengrass exclaimed, fisting her glass of juice high into the clear-blue summer sky, "I'm never going back!"

Daphne and Theo had arrived in France just a few days before. The trio, reunited once more, spent their few summer days together wandering the nearby villages, eating French cuisine, and lounging on the Bisset patio with the bright summer sun above them.

Alodie and Eloise had been delighted with Madeline's friends. They were from important, pure-blooded families, and acted like it. Theo's quiet intelligence left Alodie absolutely charmed, and Daphne's enthusiasm ran through every wall of the villa easily, animating dinnertime chatter and morning breakfasts.

With their fifth year looming ahead, Madeline felt like she'd known Theo and Daphne her whole life. The three of them understood each other. They understood when Theo just needed peace and quiet to read, when Daphne needed to vent, or when Madeline needed to immerse herself into an essay. And that bond hadn't shifted one bit in the time they'd been apart.

"We should move here," Daphne continued, lifting her sunglasses from her face. The sun had done her good, her once pale skin now holding a healthy golden glow, "Seriously. Screw Dumbledore, this is so much better than the dungeons."

"Who decided to have the common room in the dungeons anyway?" Theo mused, turning the next page in his book.

"Definitely unfair," Madeline nodded along, "We should revolt."

"Storm Dumbledore's office," Daphne continued, "Demand for better air quality."

Theo couldn't help but snort. He put his bookmark between the pages, closing his book, "We're ridiculous."

"But we have a point," Madeline winked, leaning back into her chair and closing her eyes.

"Seriously Mads, I know I've said it already, but this place is _amazing,"_ Daphne gushed, "I can't believe you live here."

"It's the novelty of it all, Greengrass," Madeline rolled her eyes, like a true aristocrat, "I'd be the same way in your house."

"I'd hope so," Daphne joked, "The Greengrasses take interior decor _very_ seriously."

The trio laughed, Theo chiming in, "Your mother nearly had a fit when I used the wrong fork that one time at dinner."

"I remember that!" Daphne gasped, "Bisset, my mother would _love you."_

"Send her my wishes," Madeline winked, lying back and taking up the sun.

Yes. This was exactly where she needed to be.

* * *

**August 1st**

Theo and Daphne had returned to their homes, leaving Madeline with a pile of homework to get done, and a feeling of dread growing inside her.

No one had mentioned her rise to Head of The Family since her summer return. Hell, she _knew_ they were avoiding mentioning it, but she didn't know _why._ She wasn't happy about it, sure, but she _accepted it._ Perhaps they were waiting on her uncle to break some sort of news to her, but she wasn't holding her breath on his appearance this summer. He'd made himself scarce, according to her aunts letters, rushing off to business meetings every other day.

Madeline considered writing Fred another letter, but he had yet to reply to her last one, and it had been almost a week. If she hadn't known any better, she would've thought he was ignoring her. But no, Fred was upfront and direct. He was probably just enjoying time with his family. Yes, that was it.

Madeline's eyes drifted to the pile of brochures her mother had placed on her desk just a few days before. Scholarships for programs for her to enrol into for her summer break next year, in which she'd be travelling to different Wizarding institutions and establishments to learn about potion making, depending which program she got accepted to.

Basically, a summer school for potion dorks like herself and Snape.

Eloise Bisset had attended some herself, it was said. It would be an _'enriching experience'_ , which Madeline basically took as _'I don't know what kind of people you're mixing with in Hogwarts so let's get you surrounded by the 1%'._ A summer program for overly privileged kids with an easy-access route into the professional business of being a Potion Master.

Madeline hadn't been interested, but then again, she hadn't really given any of them a chance. And so, with Fred on her mind and a month to waste before returning to Hogwarts, she began flipping through the pages of the brochures.

* * *

_Maddie,_

_I'm really sorry, but it seems that I will have to cancel the trip to the Burrow. Unfortunately we've had a nasty leak in the ceiling and we can't have any guests. I hope your summer has been going well!_

_Freddie_

* * *

**August 14th**

Okay. So.

Madeline wasn't a jealous or insecure person. Hell, she was _far_ from those things. But the fact that Fred had so bluntly uninvited her to the Burrow, after three weeks of no letters… It didn't sit right with her at all.

Besides, the Weasley's were wizards. Couldn't they magic a leak to repair itself?

She'd sent a letter to Daphne immediately, asking for her professional opinion. It would be a few days before she received a reply, which left her packing her trunks for Hogwarts extra early, pacing her room nervously.

God, Fred was _a boy._ Why was she getting worked up over _a boy?!_

She huffed in annoyance, deciding that perhaps the best thing to do was to reply with a friendly letter, assuring him all was well, and to continue with her day. But, all her homework was done, her mother and grandmother were out, and she was _alone_ in the middle of _rural France_ with _nothing to do._

She huffed, throwing herself back onto her bed. No, she wasn't going to let Fred's bluntness ruin her day. She grabbed parchment and quill, quickly scribbling a reply for her owl to send back. She then grabbed the nearest novel she could find, one her aunt had given her, and stubbornly began reading.

Madeline Bisset was not about to get outdone by a Weasley.

* * *

_Fred,_

_No worries! I'll see you in September._

_Madeline Bisset._

"She's pissed off," Fred concluded, rubbing his face as he fell back into his bed, "She signed with her full name."

"Doesn't she usually do that?" George asked, taking a seat besides his twin.

Fred shook his head, rubbing his eyes, "No, It's always been Maddie. She either knows somethings up, or she's pissed off."

"Neither sound good for you."

Fred looked around the unfamiliar room. Number 12 Grimmauld Place had served as his home for the last week, but it refused to grow any warmer to him despite the passing days. Everything around him was happening and changing so quickly, and as much as he kept a happy grin on his face, he needed to talk to someone about it all. But, he couldn't talk to Madeline about it.

Because, in learning about the Order of The Phoenix, he'd found out about what the Bisset family truly was all about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hehe… I'm back
> 
> IM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS BREAK WAS! I took some time for myself to get my head around assignments and write the start of a few more fics. The highlight of my break was me reading 3 500-page books in 24 hours. I am READY to get sucked back into this story; lets go!
> 
> (I also wrote out the entire plot for OOTP so we've DEFINITELY got a whole other year planned ready to go!)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: A lot of the scene from the Great Hall is directly quoted from the Order of The Phoenix book!

**CHAPTER 23: Happy Returns**

"Daphne, I know it's going to take every ounce of self-control to prevent yourself from doing this, but _please_ do not hex Fred Weasley on sight."

"Can I do it after he's spotted me?"

"No?"

"Why?" Daphne huffed, crossing her arms, "Legally, if he's seen me, it's a fair fight. I looked it up."

"That is a very problematic law if it's true," Theo pointed out, his eyes still trained on the book in his hands.

"Of course you looked it up," Madeline sighed, rubbing her temples and leaning back in her seat, "Of course you bloody did."

The Slytherin Trio had managed to snag a train carriage to themselves on their journey back to Hogwarts. And of course, the first point of conversation had to be Daphne's ever-growing distaste for a specific Weasley.

"I'm just _saying,"_ Daphne continued, "That _no one_ would complain if my wand slipped and-"

"Daphne, no."

And although Madeline tried to look annoyed, she did crack a grin. Because as much as Daphne could insinuate violence, Madeline knew she was only trying to cheer her up. And really, it was working.

Seeing her friends again had _definitely_ cheered Madeline up. Sure, they visited over summer, but it was different to see them returning back to their normality. Daphne had returned with sharper features and brighter eyes, while Theo's studious eyes seemed to relax a bit when he saw his two friends. It felt a little like coming home.

At that moment, a knock sounded at the compartment door. It slid open, revealing timid-looking Evie Sterling stood at the door, with a jumper two sizes too big and her ginger bob pulled up into a ponytail. But despite the slightly dishevelled appearance, she had a grin on her face.

"Good morning Evie!" Daphne cheerily greeted her, patting the empty space next to her, "Fancy joining us?"

"I'm in the carriage a few door down with the other second years, but thank you," Evie smiled politely, almost proudly claiming her title as a second year. She began turning to each of the trio, "I thought I'd come to say hi and- Oh wow Madeline, your hair grew!"

"My aunt said that," Madeline laughed, the ends of her hair hanging low down her back, "Maybe I should get it cut. How've _you_ been, Evie?"

The girl shrugged, "The same. I helped mum in the shop over summer, and I saw a couple of friends from my old muggle school. But, that's about it." And then her eyes widened, "Did you all go to France, like you said you would?"

Daphne nodded proudly, "Yes we did, young Evie. Spent a few weeks in the Bisset mansion sipping wine and attending balls-"

"No, we didn't."

"Shut up Theo," Daphne sighed, closing her eyes dramatically, "Don't ruin the magic."

Evie laughed, turning when she heard her name being called further down the carriage. She turned back to the trio apologetically, "I should head back to the others. I'll see you guys later!"

The trio bid the young Slytherin goodbye, the compartment door sliding closed once more. The noise from the other carriage was shut out once more, the trio left alone.

"She's come out of her shell," Theo mused.

"Of course she did," Madeline bragged proudly, "She's friends with us."

Daphne nodded thoughtfully, and after a few moments, she stood up. She walked to the compartment door, opening it a crack and peering around. She shut it with finality, locking it, before pulling the blind over the glass pane. Now, they were alone.

"What are you doing?" Theo asked, eyes finally trained away from his book.

"We need to talk," Daphne announced, taking her seat opposite Theo and Madeline, "And I doubt we want anyone else to hear us."

"She's going to admit to murder," Madeline jokingly gasped, "Come on Greengrass, what is it-"

"Bisset, people are talking."

Madeline raised her eyebrow curiously, "About?"

"Harry Potter," Daphne continued, "Everyone is saying he's mental because he thinks He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back."

Madeline froze. Of course, no one ever wanted to believe in a worst-case scenario.

"They're probably going to heighten security," Theo mused, "I mean, after Rita Skeeter running around writing rumours about every Gryffindor caught her eye, they're bound to expect even more press this year. Especially after the trial."

"The trial?" Madeline asked in confusion, "What trial?"

Theo and Daphne exchanged a confused look, before Daphne groaned in frustration, "I don't understand how you're dating a _Weasley_ and he doesn't tell you about these things. Seriously, please reconsider my offer of a hex."

"What trial?" Madeline asked again.

Theo and Daphne exchanged another look, before Daphne took the lead, "I don't think it's public knowledge yet, but I've got a cousin in The Wizengamot. He said there was a disciplinary hearing for Harry's use of underage magic outside of Hogwarts. Apparently Dumbledore was there and everything. He nearly got expelled."

Madeline eyes widened. Fred _hadn't told her,_ and hell, she'd even exchanged a couple of letters with Harry before he _too_ stopped replying. Something was going on, she was sure of it.

She thought back to her own lessons with her aunt. She knew the rules for underage magic still applied in France, but she knew her family had a loophole into it. Something about Eloise Bisset being a teacher, or perhaps her uncle had pulled a couple of strings in the Ministry to allow her to practice magic with her grandmother. Either way, she was eternally grateful that she'd flown under the radar, because she couldn't imagine being expelled.

"People think Harry is mental already. I heard Tracy's parents almost didn't let her come back," Daphne continued, "We don't know what happened in that maze last year, but if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, there is going to be a bright red target on Harry Potter's back."

* * *

The ride back to Hogwarts had always been a long one. Madeline would gaze out of the window, watching the Scottish countryside zoom past them as they made their way to the castle, the low rumble of the wheels on the tracks below them reminding Madeline that sooner or later, she'd be back in Hogwarts with her friends.

And Fred.

She made her way out of the bathroom compartment, now changed into her Slytherin robes. The feeling of the green tie once again around her neck, the Slytherin crest proudly embroidered on her chest… It made her feel powerful again.

She could feel the weight of the Bisset pendant underneath her robes, hidden beneath her shirt. She hadn't dared ask her aunt about it during her visit home. In fact, she had barely paid the necklace any mind. Her mother was becoming more and more of a closed book these days, and she knew asking her would bring more suspicion than answers.

She slipped past compartments upon compartments, catching glimpses inside. Hannah Abbott was proudly bragging about her new shiny yellow Prefect badge in one compartment, while Dean Thomas was animatedly chatting with a couple of the younger Gryffindors in the next. Madeline even got a wave from Evie Sterling and her friends, a whole six of them crammed into a compartment together.

And yet, still no sign of Fred.

She wasn't necessarily looking for him. No, she wouldn't. Well, maybe later. God, everything felt like a mess, it was all-

"Oh, sorry Madeline!"

Madeline had been too caught up in her own thoughts to notice that she'd in fact bumped into none other than The Boy Who Lived himself, also dressed back into his Gryffindor robes, and with a much better haircut than he'd had just a few months before.

"Sorry Potter, didn't see you there," Madeline replied, "But, uh, how've you been?"

Harry shrugged, partly because he didn't know how to reply, but also because the last time they'd spoken like this, a boy had been dead, "I'm alright, apart from all the nonsense from the Daily Prophet. You?"

"I'm back in Sunny Scotland, how could I be unhappy?" Madeline joked a small grin being pulled from Harry's face.

But then Madeline remembered that he too had been hiding something from her, that Fred was somewhere on this train keeping his distance, and she wasn't about to entertain either boy with friendship or _anything else._

"But I should probably get back to my carriage," Madeline eventually continued, any trace of a smile wiped on her face, "I'll catch you later, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Harry hastily nodded. Madeline smiled a thin polite smile, squeezing past him in the narrow train corridor. She didn't look back, making her way back to the rear of the train, away from the Gryffindor.

Harry watched her leave. He could feel the weight of the photograph Mad-Eye Moody had given him just a few weeks before, sitting in his robe pocket. Madeline was a friend, she'd always been, but the Bisset bloodline was a poisonous one. His hand slipped into his pocket, fingers curling around the ageing photograph as he recalled Moody's words.

_"...Caradoc Dearborn, vanished six months after this, we never found his body…"_

* * *

"I can't believe it," Daphne huffed as she dramatically slid the compartment door open, returning from dressing back into her own robes, "Guess who snagged Slytherin Prefects?"

"If it's Crabbe and Goyle I'll off myself."

"Worse," Daphne shook her head solemnly, closing the door behind her, "Malfoy and Parkinson."

Madeline snorted, a laugh bubbling out between her lips, "You're kidding."

"I wish I was," Daphne shook her head once more, taking a seat opposite Theo, "Saw it with my own eyes. Pansy was bragging about it in the loo."

"Odd place to brag," Theo observed.

"We're not going to hear the end of this _ever,"_ Daphne continued, peering out the window. The grey clouds hung low over the sky, casting a dark shadow over the tracks. It was almost sunset, "I think we're almost there."

Madeline felt nervousness prickling in her fingers. This moment had to arrive eventually, but the prospect of seeing Fred was still a little intimidating. Okay, a lot intimidating, but hey! She'd never had a boyfriend before. Of course she'd be nervous.

"Relax," Daphne smiled at her, sensing her nerves, "He's a dead man if he tries anything."

"Hey-"

"Kidding," Daphne winked, turning back to the window and looking outside dreamily.

"How's Terence?" Madeline asked, "I know you guys broke up, but you're still friends, right?"

"Sure," Daphne shrugged, eyes still fixed on the window, "I mean, we didn't have much to talk about in the first place anyway. I didn't really speak to him over summer either."

"What a tragic loss," Theo sighed sarcastically.

The Slytherin Trio lost themselves in jokes and tales, talking about what they'd done with the rest of their summer, and Madeline's awkward encounter with Harry. They were so lost in conversation, in fact, that they didn't realise they'd arrived until the train came to a screeching stop.

"We're here," Theo observed in surprise, the trio finally noticing students piling into the corridor outside their compartment.

Daphne groaned, "It's going to be hell getting off this thing."

Madeline sighed, standing and beginning to unload the luggage from their luggage compartments, "The sooner we get to the feast, the better. I'm _starving."_

The Trio unloaded their luggage and waited patiently at the door of their compartment for a gap to queue up in, but of course, no one wanted to let the Slytherins push in front of them on the mad rush to get out of the train. After a few minutes of disapproving glares, Daphne had managed to squeeze herself and Theo into the queue, Madeline pulling her luggage behind her as she slipped behind Theo.

She'd just managed to straighten herself up when her luggage rolled into her ankle. She hissed at the sharp pain, her leg buckling. But surprisingly, someone grabbed her waist just before she could lose balance.

"Merlin, thanks," Madeline sighed as she composed herself, turning to see who'd helped her.

The minute she met those eyes, her breath caught in her throat.

So. Draco Malfoy had grown into himself.

Now don't get her wrong, he was still a slimy little git with a sneer that could rival Snape's own, but he'd definitely grown into his features, his cheekbones sharper and jawline more prominent. Not to mention, he'd grown a few inches. Madeline almost had to look up to see his face. He was almost handsome. _Almost._

"Bloody hell. Clumsy as alway, Dearborn."

Ah, there it was. The spell was broken.

"Get your hands off me you twat," Madeline huffed, pulling away from his grip, "And don't call me that."

"It's your name, isn't it?"

"Bisset," Madeline seethed, glaring at him viciously. God, she hadn't missed him, "My name is _Bisset."_

"Manners, _Madeline_ , or I'll have to give you a detention," Draco cockily pointed out, a wicked grin on his face, "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Fancy way of saying you're stuck up Snape's arse."

"You little b-"

"Come on," Theo pressed softly, turning around and grabbing her arm, "The queue is moving."

Madeline glared at Draco one last time before turning back around to Theo, her hair most definitely whipping Draco's cocky little smirk off his face. She grabbed her luggage, speedily following her friends off the train.

God, she hated Malfoy.

* * *

Madeline followed her friends on the path towards the horseless carriages that would take anyone above first year to the castle. She'd shaken off the encounter with Draco, but hadn't shaken off her rage quite yet.

When they finally found an empty carriage, Madeline stared at it in confusion.

"Aren't they meant to be horseless?" Madeline asked as her two friends began loading their luggage into the carriage.

Daphne stared at her as if she were crazy, "They are? Come on, before we get stuck with Crabbe and Goyle or something."

Madeline stared at the space between the carriage shafts in confusion. A fleshless, reptile-like horse stood laced between them, it's black coat clinging to its skeleton, making every bone in it's body visible. Wings sprouted from each side - vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they should to belong to giant bats, much less be taking students to school. Looking around, Madeline noticed each carriage was being pulled by one of these creatures.

"You don't see them?" Madeline asked in confusion, pulling her luggage into the carriage, "Are you playing a prank on me or something?"

Theo and Daphne exchanged a worried glance as Madeline climbed in, seating herself next to Daphne, "We have no idea what you're talking about."

Madeline was becoming worried, "Can't… Can't you see them?"

Theo frowned, "See what?"

"Can't you see what's pulling the carriages?"

"…No?"

Madeline huffed, looking out and around the carriage to see if anyone else had noticed them. Nothing. No one even _glanced_ at the creatures. She frowned; was she hallucinating or something?

"You're having stress hallucinations," Daphne concluded wearily, still shooting Theo a subtle worried glance, "Your brain is trying to make up for empty space."

"Right," Madeline agreed hesitantly as the carriage began moving, "No, right. You're right."

Daphne made a mental note to take her friend to the Hospital Wing as soon as possible.

* * *

The carriages jingled to a halt near the stone steps leading up to the oak front doors of the Entrance Hall. The short carriage ride had done nothing to calm Madeline. In fact, she could feel the nerves taking over once more, fingertips tingling as the three friends stepped out of the carriage.

"They always get our trunks to us somehow," Theo mused as the trio left their luggage in the carriage, "It's quite impressive."

"We're literally in a magical wizarding school, Theo," Daphne pointed out, noticing Madeline's eyes trained on the empty space in front of their carriage, "Oi, Bisset, you still hungry?"

"What?" Madeline snapped her head back to her friends, "Oh, yeah. Let's go."

Daphne frowned, placing her hand to Madeline's head, "You don't have a fever."

"I'm not ill - I'm probably just tired," Madeline brushed Daphne's hand away, "Come on, I'm starving."

The Entrance Hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right, leading to the Great Hall and the start-of-term feast. Madeline found herself comforted as she found herself lost in the sea of dark robes, her eyes trained in front of her as the three friends shuffled into the Great Hall.

The four long house tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other houses, eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes.

The trio drifted to the Slytherin table easily, being some of the first students to arrive. They took their seats higher towards the end of the table, taking the seats of those who'd been in their place the year before. It was the start of their fifth year, excitement rising in the air as more and more students flooded in.

Daphne sat on Madeline's right, while Theo took a seat in front of them. From here, Madeline could see the rest of the hall, spotting a few familiar heads in the crowds. It was odd not to see the light blue of the Beauxbatons uniforms, a pang of sadness in realising that Fleur wouldn't be here this year. Nevertheless, she had her Slytherins on her side.

Tracy Davies slipped into the seat next to Daphne, a beaming smile on her face as her boyfriend took the seat next to her, "Well, this is exciting. Lots of new first years, too."

"Good evening Tracy," Madeline nodded, "Nice break?"

"I spent it at Cassius' house," Tracy smiled happily, her boyfriend grinning besides her, "What about you guys?"

"Madeline introduced us to the high French societies," Daphne speedily bragged, "Oh it was beautiful; the vineyards, the gowns-"

"We literally collectively drank like, one bottle of wine over the week."

"Shut up Theo."

Madeline laughed, turning back to the rest of the hall. During her conversation with Tracy, more and more people had entered the hall, tables quickly filling up. She spotted a familiar pair of twin ginger-haired boys at the Gryffindor table, but the crowds were far too thick to see anything but the tops of their heads. Nevertheless, her heart began to beat a little faster.

She only broke her gaze when Daphne spluttered.

"She did _not_ look like that last year."

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, turning to where Daphne had been looking. Sure enough, Loony Lovegood was making her way into the hall and to the Ravenclaw table. Her hair seemed a little more controlled than last year, yet still falling in wild blonde ringlets. Her features were sharper, like Draco's had been, and she'd definitely grown more than a few inches.

"Lovegood?" Madeline asked in confusion, "You mean her?"

"I mean- _yes,"_ Daphne stressed, "She looks… Different."

"And I'm the one going crazy."

"Oi!"

Theo looked at Daphnee with an unreadable expression, but before any of the friends could push the matter any further, Daphne's eyes trailed up to the Professors table.

'Who's that?' she asked sharply, looking at the middle of the Professors table.

Madeline and Theo also turned, furrowing their eyebrows. An unfamiliar teacher sat at the table, overlooking the hall with a thoughtful eye and a harrowingly sweet smile stitched onto her face. She was short, with cropped curly mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes.

"Dunno," Madeline shrugged, "She wasn't at the station."

"That's Dolores Umbridge," Theo recognised, "I think she's part of The Wizengamot with your cousin or something, Daphne."

"I knew I recognised her," Daphne nodded thoughtfully. Madeline spotted Professor Grubbly-Plank, who'd just returned from leading the first years across the lake, meaning that the Sorting Ceremony would start soon.

Surely enough, a few seconds later, the doors from the Entrance Hall opened. A long line of scared-looking first-years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat the Sorting Hat, no less ancient and matted than when Madeline had her own sorting just a year before.

Her gaze travelled back to the Gryffindor table. What would her life have been like had she been sorted into Gryffindor?

The hall slowly faded into silence. The first-years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back. Madeline almost fell out of her seat when the Sorting Hat began singing, glaring playfully at Theo and Daphne when they chuckled at her.

She barely paid much attention to the song; it was far too long for her liking. However, the final verse _did_ catch her attention, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

_"Oh, know the perils, read the signs,  
_ _The warning history shows,  
_ _For our Hogwarts is in danger,  
_ _From external, deadly foes._  
_And we must unite inside her,  
_ _Or we'll crumble from within."_

"Crumble from within," Madeline muttered to herself in the haze of applause for the Sorting Hat.

"Bit bold this year, isn't it?" Theo mused, eyes on the hat.

Madeline didn't answer, but Tracy leant over, "I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?"

No one answered. Instead, all eyes fell back on the first years, watching the sorting happen before them. Of course, the first one had been a Gryffindor, who'd received far more applause for someone who'd only put a hat on their head.

The long line of first-years slowly began trickling down. Whenever someone would be sorted into Slytherin, Madeline and the older Slytherins would clap and cheer extra loud, making up for the silence of the other houses. No one was going to feel alone or estranged this year, if they could help it.

Once the final first year had been sorted, Professor McGonagall picked up the Hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "Welcome! To our old hands… Welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

And of course, perfectly on cue, the tables began filling with food and drinks, gasps and giggles flooding the table as the first years were welcomed and the older years tucked in. Daphne spotted a couple of Gryffindors eyeing the Slytherin first-years wearily, which she rolled her eyes at.

"That hat wants the houses to be friends?" Daphne snorted, "Fat chance."

After the meal had been eaten, Madeline had begun to feel the tiredness from her journey start to hit her. The noise level in the Hall was starting to creep upwards again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the Headmaster.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," began Dumbledore. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students-and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"The what-now?" Madeline whispered, "Where is Hagrid?"

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause, especially from the Slytherin table. Quite frankly, everyone looked like they could use a good nap.

Dumbledore continued, 'Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the-"

Dumbledore was, however, cut off by the sound of Professor Umbridge clearing her throat, and although Madeline hadn't noticed at first, the short woman had gotten up and was standing next to Dumbledore, almost expectantly.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth had been pulled incredibly thin. It was quite comical, in Madeline's opinion.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "For those kind words of welcome."

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish. Madeline could see herself not liking this woman one bit.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" she smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"

Daphne snorted into her glass of pumpkin juice, having caught a glimpse of Crabbe and Goyle's empty, expressionless faces. To be fair, no one else looked rather engaged in Umbridge's announcements.

"'I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" Umbridge continued. This time Madeline barely contained her own smirk,

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

"Bloody hell," Daphne whispered.

Umbridge's speech was perhaps the most bored Madeline had ever been in Hogwarts. She managed to keep herself awake and tune in for the tail-end of her final point, which was quite an achievement, in her opinion.

"Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.'"

She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Madeline noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.

"The Ministry is interfering with Hogwarts," Daphne whispered to her friends as Dumbledore resumed his own speech, "That's why she's here."

Madeline looked at Umbridge curiously, who seemed to have her own eyes trained on the sea of gold and red that was Gryffindor, no doubt scouting out The Boy Who Lived. She shook her head. Couldn't the Ministry at least be a _little_ subtle about it all?


	25. 24: Umbridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: Some of this chapter has been directly lifted and altered from the original books, specifically the scene with Umbridge.

**CHAPTER 24: Umbridge**

It was her first night back in Hogwarts, and she couldn't sleep.

She should've seen it coming, really. After all, a few months away doesn't exactly change the fact that the last time she'd been in Hogwarts grounds, Cedric had died. She shouldn't be surprised that every time she tried to sleep, her mind would bring back memories of that night.

And perhaps that's how she found herself in the Hogwarts kitchens once more, in dark grey joggers and Fred's jumper, huddled under the same window her and Cedric had shared the night before the final task. Back then, she hadn't known it would be the last time she'd get to spend time with her friend.

She stared out of the window with a hot mug of tea between her hands, staring at the darkness that shrouded the Hogwarts grounds. The House Elves had gone to sleep, leaving her alone in the dimly lit kitchens, only the sound of the wind keeping her company.

She still hadn't spoken to Fred; not yet. She wasn't exactly avoiding him, but she _did_ rush out of the Great Hall the second the feast was over, dragging Daphne and Theo down to the dungeons so she could calm down and _stop thinking about the damn Weasley._

It was fine. Everything was going to be fine once she got a chance to speak to him, but it didn't make things any less intimidating. Of course she was excited to see him, but she was also scared of what everything meant. Because what if his silence over the summer was because he realised he didn't want to date a Bisset?

She huffed, taking a long sip of her tea. She loved the power that came with a high-class powerful family; that was something that she could never deny, not really. Did it make her a bad person? Maybe. But it meant that she was in control, that she could make decisions no one would dare question. That _Fred_ would never question, and that unsettled her a little.

She made a decision. Tomorrow, at breakfast, she'd march herself to the Gryffindor table, sit down next to _her boyfriend_ , and _talk to him._ Daphne would be proud of her, she was sure, and Theo would probably be unfazed at her sudden burst of confidence.

"Madeline Bisset is not a coward," Madeline whispered to herself, rubbing the rim of the mug, "Because she can't be. I'm not allowed to be afraid. Never again."

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to creep her way back to the Slytherin common room. No one wandered the halls at night, not on the first day and after a feast _that_ big, but she still proceeded with caution, only removing her invisibility cloak outside the Slytherin entrance.

" _Salamander,"_ Madeline whispered, the door opening easily as she folded the robe between her hands.

She'd decided to try and get at _least_ a couple of hours of sleep for her first day. Hell, she'll need them for when she faces Fred, and the series of classes she'll have to face _after._ Honestly, the idea of her comfy Slytherin bed was becoming more and more inviting-

"You're up late."

Madeline shrieked at the voice, jumping half a foot in the air as her hand flew to her chest. She looked at the blonde boy on the Slytherin sofa with wide eyes, glaring as she tried to catch her breath.

"What the hell?!" Madeline huffed, "Warn a girl next time you're going to lurk around in the dark, will you?"

Draco shrugged, closing the book in his lap. The fireplace was on, a low fire barely illuminating the small space of the sofas. Draco was still dressed in his Hogwarts uniform, but his robes had been discarded, leaving him in his white shirt and slacks, the Slytherin tie hanging loosely from his neck. His hair wasn't dishevelled, but it wasn't styled in his usual meticulous look. Madeline realised the boy hadn't even gone to bed.

"Out with your boyfriend?" Draco smirked as Madeline trudged her way over to the sofa, sitting on the opposite end to Draco.

Madeline rolled her eyes, "No. I couldn't sleep."

"Trouble in paradise already?" Draco teased, a bitter tone in his voice as he reopened the book in his lap.

"None of your business," Madeline snapped, leaning her head back on the sofa, "What are you doing anyway?"

"Reading."

"Because you can't do that in your own dorm?"

"Crabbe snores," Draco shrugged, as if it were the most obvious statement in the world.

Madeline frowned, but said nothing. Draco Malfoy was not her problem to deal with or to decipher. In fact, she should probably be getting back to bed by now.

But… The sofa was surprisingly comfortable. The leather was warm from the fire, and the plush green pillows were soft and inviting. Maybe she could just close her eyes for a moment, or a few minutes, and enjoy the comfort of the common room before bed.

Yeah, that sounded like a nice idea.

* * *

Madeline awoke to the sound of the whistles and bells of distant alarms. She groggily pulled herself sitting, wiping at her eyes and looking around her room-

Oh. She wasn't in her room.

A couple of first years eyed her warily as they entered the common room, spotting her draped half-asleep over one of the sofas. A fluffy green blanket was draped over her, one she'd never seen before in the common room. The fire had long been put out, and a leather-bound book had been left in front of her on the coffee table.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, moving the blanket off herself. It was warm and fuzzy, a perfect match for Slytherin green. She saw her invisibility cloak folded at her feet. She scooped both up quickly, hiding the cloak in the blanket as she stood, looking at the clock.

She had a while before breakfast, thankfully. She didn't spare the book a second glance, making her way to her dormitory. She tiptoed up the wooden steps, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she pushed the heavy door open.

"Where were you?!"

Madeline groaned at Daphne's loud demand, moving to her bed and throwing herself into the pillows, "Fell asleep in the common room."

"That's a bit stupid."

"Shut up," Madeline grumbled into the pillows, ignoring the other girls giggling as she rolled herself onto her back.

"Hurry up, you need to look at _least_ semi-presentable."

Madeline sighed, rubbing her eyes. Her elbow brushed against the fluffy blanket. She frowned. Thinking about it, she hadn't seen the blanket on the sofa last night, and she most definitely didn't tuck herself in. She thought back to the book left on the coffee table, and to the particular blonde she'd seen.

She scoffed, laughing to herself. No way would Draco Malfoy tuck her in.

* * *

"That brush you gave me? A godsend," Madeline sighed as her, Daphne and Theo made their way out of the Slytherin dungeons. Madeline's hair had been brushed straight and sleek, a quick charm applying the lightest touches of makeup under her eyes to hide her slight dark circles.

Daphne flicked her hair over her shoulder proudly, "You'd be lost without me."

Madeline eyed her other housemates, who were walking a few paces in front of the trio. Pansy and Draco were both sporting shiny new Prefect badges on their robes, making no move to help the first years find their way to the Great Hall. In fact, it seemed that Evie Sterling was doing a much better job, chatting animately to a first year blonde girl.

"Blaise was talking about the Daily Prophet last night," Theo began quietly, "Said they're making Potter out to be a liar, and Dumbledore a fool."

Madeline scoffed, "Bloody hell, can Potter ever catch a break?"

"I don't know mind," Daphne admitted, "I spoke to Tracy; she seems to believe it."

"Most people don't want to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could be back because they don't _want_ him to be back," Madeline pointed out, "I don't know if Potter is a liar or Dumbledore is a fool, but… Well, we saw what happened to… To _Cedric_. And I doubt it was either of them."

The Trio fell in a pensive silence, Theo seemingly nodding slightly to himself. Saying Cedric's name out loud, knowing he wasn't around anymore, still stung a bit. But it was getting better, she thought. Eventually, Daphne was the one to break her out of her musing.

"I mean, if he _is_ coming back, I hope he does it during exam season," Daphne joked, "Because OWLS. aren't sounding like a barrel of laughs right now."

Theo raised his eyebrows, "You'd rather the Dark Lord returning than sitting your exams?"

"Exactly."

Theo sighed, rubbing his temples, "I didn't miss you."

"Oi!"

Madeline laughed at her two friends. She'd missed this; the easy laughter that came with being with her house. Sure, she didn't spend nearly as much time with the rest of her house as she did with Theo and Daphne, but there was still a quiet sense of belonging any time she walked with the green-and-silver students.

The hoard of Slytherins had reached the exit to the dungeons. They made their way through the Grand Staircases, the first years eyeing the moving structures warily as the walked underneath them. Pansy and Draco were, surprisingly, the ones to lead the small group down a set of marbled stairs, leading to the Entrance Hall.

Madeline could feel her mouth watering at the thought of breakfast. God, she needed coffee, and a lot of it. She'd barely taken another step towards the entrance of the Great Hall before a familiar voice caught her attention.

"Well, I think it's a pity we're not trying for a bit of inter-house unity."

Hermione Granger was striding past the Slytherin Trio with Harry and Ron at her tail, barely noticing Madeline. Students stopped to watch Harry pass, snickering and whispering between themselves. Clearly, everyone had been keeping up with the Daily Prophet, or had heard rumours about The Boy Who Lived going mad.

"Subtle," Theo commented as he watched a Ravenclaw boy yank his girlfriend out of Harry Potter's way, " _Real_ subtle."

"Who cares," Daphne huffed, "Breakfast, please. Like, _now."_

Madeline laughed as Daphne stormed ahead, Theo following suit. She allowed a group of first years to squeeze past her, leaving her a few paces behind her friends. She was barely at the entrance of the Great Hall when a far too familiar voice stopped her.

"Maddie?"

_Oh shit._

She waited too long to do this on her own terms, and now she was stuck. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before slowly turning around.

And, _oh._ Fred had a haircut.

And it looked good. Like, _really_ good. Sure, the long hair had been alright and it was fun to mess up when Fred got grumpy, but the short hair looked _fantastic_. Brilliant, even. And he had a few shorter bits at the front, almost like bangs. God, they were adorable, and the cut really brought out his features. She didn't realise Fred had such good cheekbones-

"Mads?"

Oh right. Talking. She was meant to be talking.

"Hey," she greeted awkwardly, hands clasped together in front of her, "You look good- I mean, your haircut. You've had a haircut. It looks good! Not that you didn't before-"

She was bad at this.

"Thanks," Fred chuckled lightly, running his hand through the shorter cut. He felt just as awkward as she did as he rubbed his neck, "Look, can we talk?"

 _'He's going to break up with me,'_ Madeline thought, _'Right in front of the bloody Great Hall. I'm never going to be able to eat again without thinking of his stupid face.'_

Madeline nodded calmly, "Yeah. Talking sounds good."

Fred gently put his hand to her elbow, leading her into a secluded alcove, away from prying eyes. Even the lightest touch from him brought shivers down her spine. Madeline spotted Draco and Pansy entering the Great Hall, his grey-blue eyes trailing on her for a moment before focusing back to Crabbe, who had been tattering on about whatever he'd spent his summer doing (not much).

"I need to apologise," Fred admitted once they were alone, "I kind of… Blew you off this summer?"

"I was wondering about that," Madeline replied coldly, something Daphne would be proud of.

"A lot of stuff happened with Harry, and," Fred paused, running his hand through his hair again, "And just some family stuff. I didn't really want to talk about it and I kind of just… Neglected you? It wasn't right, and I'm sorry."

Madeline had to take a few moments to process what he'd said, because she'd never seen Fred so… Serious? Usually he'd at least have a little grin or a small smirk on his face, but considering she thought he was going to break up with her…

"You're not breaking up with me?" Madeline asked slowly, just to be sure.

"Absolutely not," Fred shook his head, "I mean… As long as you don't want me to?"

Madeline shook her head, "I'll admit the summer was… Confusing, but I get it."

Fred's eyes widened, "Really?"

Madeline shrugged, "Hey, it's your family stuff. Personal stuff. I'm not about to demand you tell me every family secret in the book. But next time, promise me you'll at least tell me when you need space?"

Fred smiled, his hands finding Madeline's. Their fingers laced together, "I promise."

Madeline smiled, Fred ducking to her face as he planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. She whispered in his ear, "Now, can we _please_ get some breakfast? If I don't have coffee in the next ten minutes, you're going to have to carry me to Potions."

Fred laughed, arm sliding over and around her shoulders, "Lead the way, m'lady."

"And you need to tell me about this jokes business you've got going on! Unless it makes me an accomplice in crime, or something."

"Be careful what you wish for."

* * *

Madeline caught up on a good bit of her sleep in History Of Magic, seating herself in the far corner with Theo as he wrote notes for the both of them. Professor Binns hardly noticed her drooping head and closed eyes, busy arguing with Daphne about the origin of different famous bloodlines. The drizzle and rain meant that most of the students stayed indoors throughout of the day, corridors crowded as the Slytherin Trio made their way from class to class.

"Potions with Gryffindor," Daphne groaned as the trio made their way down to the dungeons, "Does Dumbledore hate us?"

"Yes, we determined that by the location of our common room," Madeline pointed out as she stepped through a rather sticky puddle of god-knows-what.

The Trio arrived just as the doors to Snape's classroom opened, the large group of fifth-years flooding in. No one dared take the front seats, even Theo and Daphne taking a table in the second row, but Madeline wanted to be a Potions Master. And if she wanted to take Potions for her N.E.W.T.S, she needed to get into Snape's good books.

She slid into a seat at the desk in front of Theo's and Daphne's, most people steering clear of the front. Hermione had taken a seat on her own at the desk next to hers, the girls acknowledging each other with a tight smile. Madeline had just finished unpacking her parchment and quills when a sneery, blonde-haired Slytherin slid into the seat besides her.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, "Wrong seat?"

"Wrong partner," Draco Malfoy retorted snidely, "Sure you'll be able to keep up this year?"

"I literally beat your grades in every assignment-"

"Settle down," Snape announced coldly as he shut the door behind him, the class falling into immediate silence. Madeline gave Draco one last glare before turning to the Professor.

"Before we begin today's lesson, I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions," Snape swept across the front of the room, eyeing each student, "Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an ' _Acceptable_ ' in your OWL, or suffer my… Displeasure."

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."

Madeline noticed Draco straightening up from the corner of her eyes. Surely he wasn't thinking of taking Potions next year? Sure, he wasn't half bad, but nowhere near good enough to pursue a _career_ in it. But then again, the Malfoy's were rich enough to never have to work a day in their lives. The Bisset's were the same, but Madeline despised being bored.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," Snape's voice cut in sharply, "So, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students."

This was going to be a long year.

* * *

"Twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday," Daphne repeated to her friends that lunchtime, sat in their usual seats at the Slytherin table, "It's our _first day_."

"At least Madeline and Draco's answers got us house points," Theo pointed out.

And it was true. Surprisingly, the majority of questions were answered by Madeline and Draco, something the former found ridiculous. Sure, _she_ was good, but Draco? Since when had he become such a suck-up for Potions?

"Speaking of Madeline," Daphne began, turning to her best friend, "Weasley. Spill."

Madeline shrugged, taking a bite out of her sandwich, "Same thing I told you at breakfast. He apologised, explained, and we're fine. Find someone else to explore your homicidal tendencies with."

Daphne nodded carefully, "So no hexing?"

"No."

"Gotcha," Daphne winked, sinking her fork into a cherry tomato and bringing it to her lips, "Let me know if that changes."

"You'll be the first to know."

Speculations had reached the fifth year Slytherins of their new D.A.D.A professor. They'd be the first year to have her, and quite frankly, Madeline was excited. Despite their teacher being a Death Eater in disguise, she'd really enjoyed the subject last year.

When they eventually entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan from the night before. Of course, the Gryffindors were also sharing this class with them.

The class went quiet as they entered the room. Without thinking, Madeline took a seat next to Neville, in their same spot as last year. Neville seemed surprised, but not nearly as much as he had been in her first year. The two shared a polite smile, almost like the one Madeline had shared with Hermione, before Professor Umbridge began speaking.

"Well, good afternoon!" she greeted almost-cheerily when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply, Madeline choosing to stay silent. She was still rather drowsy from the late night.

"Tut, tut," Umbridge shook her head, "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge!' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

Madeline could feel the life drain out of her as the class chanted, "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge!"

"There, now," Professor Umbridge smiled sweetly, "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

Madeline sighed quietly. Of course, a theory lesson when she was half asleep with half a mind of having Theo write her notes again. Maybe Neville would do it if she promised to protect him from any big bad monsters they'd face in this years classes.

Professor Umbridge tapped her unusually short wand on the blackboard in front of the class as Madeline pulled out her quills. The words _'A Return To Basic Principals'_ appeared on the board.

"Your teaching in this subject has been rather… Disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" Umbridge stated more than asked, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her, "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year."

Madeline distinctly recalled her speech from the night before. A Ministry-appointed teacher did not sound like a barrel of laughs.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified," Umbridge continued to smile, "We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

For a few minutes, the scratching of quills and quiet sighs of students were all that could be heard as Umbridge wrote on the blackboard. It seemed that every word or moment Umbridge spent with the class, the more life wanted to drain out of Madeline, and when she spotted Crabbe barely keeping his eyes open a few rows away from her, she knew she wasn't the only one.

Umbridge then sternly asked them all to turn to their copies of _'Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard',_ a book Madeline had probably read when she was ten.

"I should like you to turn to page five and read 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes.

Madeline had barely been in this lesson ten minutes and she could already hear the far cry of Professor Binns lessons, which were somehow less dull than re-reading how to properly hold a wand. The only exciting thing was that while everyone at least pretended to read their copies, Hermione had not even opened hers. Instead, she was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air.

Madeline had to rub her eyes in shock at the sight, because when did Hermione ever _not_ do as she was told?

It was almost comical, how long Umbridge spent ignoring Hermione. To the point where Madeline had even nudged Neville under the desk to watch with her. Eventually, Umbridge relented, turning to Hermione.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked sweetly, as though she had only just noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no."

"Well, we're reading just now," Umbridge explained with a sweet smile, "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims."

Madeline would've rolled her eyes if she didn't suspect she'd have to endure a lecture from their Professor in doing so.

"And your name is?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," replied Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," Hermione replied bluntly, "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

Now _that_ woke Madeline up a bit.

No defensive spells? That couldn't be right. She did _not_ spend half her summer learning to conjure a Patronus for her not to be able to show that ability off.

"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh, "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

And of course, that set off the majority of the Gryffindors in the class to ask questions. Even Dean Thomas shot his hand up, arguing the point that of _course_ they needed to learn defensive spells, Parvati making a pretty good point about the fact that OWL examinations contained a practical element to them, meaning they'd be performing spells for the first time _in their exam._ Honestly, Madeline would call the professor a clown if she thought it wouldn't get her expelled.

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?"

All eyes turned to Harry, who hadn't bothered raising his hand.

"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?"

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."

"Here we go," Madeline whispered quietly to Neville.

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" enquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.

"Hmm, I don't know," Harry drawled out, "Maybe Lord Voldemort?"

Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Daphne gasped. Hermione even dropped her quill. Madeline could feel a phantom tingle from her necklace, hidden under her shirt, because hey, the boy wasn't tactful but he wasn't wrong either. Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

The classroom fell into silence.

"Now, let me make a few things quite clear," Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned towards them, "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead-"

"He wasn't dead," Harry pointed out in frustration.

"Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," Professor Umbridge snapped in one breath without looking at him. She composed herself almost immediately, "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. _This is a lie._ "

"It is NOT a lie! I saw him. I fought him!"

"Detention, Mr Potter!" Professor Umbridge announced almost triumphantly, "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office."

Harry stayed silent.

"I repeat, this is a lie," Umbridge continued, "The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading."

Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk. Harry, however, stood up. Everyone stared at him. Madeline had a sick feeling about what he was about to say.

"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?"

No one dared speak. There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night Cedric had died. A couple of eyes turned to Madeline, including Theo and Daphne, eyeing her warily as Madeline gripped the edges of her desk.

Everyone stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," she said coldly.

Alright, she'd done it now.

Madeline's hand shot into the air, and without waiting for Umbridge to see her, she interrupted, "I'll have you know, Professor, that it was a murder."

Now everyone was looking at Madeline with a shocked expression. No other Slytherin had dared defy Umbridge in the class, all the arguments coming from the Gryffindors, but she continued, "Dumbledore said it himself; lying about what happened that night would be an insult to his memory."

Professor Umbridge's face was quite blank, "And you are, Miss-"

"Madeline Bisset."

"It seems that these lies have poisoned you too," Umbridge nodded thoughtfully, "I think it's best for you to attend detention too, Miss Bisset, to qualm any of these worries. Tomorrow evening, seven o'clock in my office."

Madeline didn't speak. Her eyes met briefly with Harry's, a sort of understanding passing between them. She simply lowered her hand, mimicking Umbridge's sickly sweet smile, "I'd be delighted, Professor."


	26. 25: Detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: umm… a little bit of spice. (Also, we all know what Umbridge's quill does.

**Chapter 25: Detention**

_A Few Weeks Ago, August  
_ _12 Grimmauld Place_

_Harry eyed Sirius, Remus and Moody warily. The group had been left alone for the first time since Moody had given Harry the photo of the Order of The Phoenix, and with the Weasleys and Hermione tucked into bed, Harry had questions._

_Because one name had struck out to him more than any other._

_"I know his daughter," Harry pointed out Caradoc Dearborn in the picture to the other men._

_Sirius raised his eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his face, "The old man really did end up marrying her?"_

_"He swore he would," Remus nodded thoughtfully, "Always thought him and Mary would make a lovely couple."_

_"She's in Hogwarts now," Harry continued, "His daughter, I mean. In Slytherin. Her name is Madeline Bisset."_

_Remus almost spit his tea out at the name. Sirius spluttered, and Moody's eyes widened. Clearly, not the reaction Harry had expected._

_"Bisset?" Moody pressed, "Boy, are you sure?"_

_"Positive," Harry nodded, "She, uh, was Cedric's friend."_

_The three men looked at each other, or rather, Remus and Moody looked at Sirius. The man sighed, leaning back into his chair._

_"Harry, the Bissets were on The Dark Lord's side during the war," Sirius began explaining, eyes fixed on Harry, "Caradoc became a target because of them, as did the Order. They breed bad blood throughout their bloodline. They're as bad as the Malfoy family, Harry. Or even my own."_

_Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "But Madeline isn't - she's not like Malfoy at all. Hell, she's dating Fred!"_

_"She's what?!" Sirius pressed, "Does Molly know about this?!"_

_Harry nodded, "She met her."_

_"I'd be wary either way Harry," Remus interrupted, shaking his head, "Caradoc was far too good of a man to have died so young. He was a friend of ours back in Hogwarts, but… The war, Harry. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wanted something from him, something he wasn't willing to give up."_

_"What was it?" Harry pressed._

_"We don't know," Moody cut in, "Caradoc was an inventor. Had he lived, I am sure he would've revolutionised the way we use magic. He was one of the brightest wizards I've ever met. No one truly knows what happened on the day of his disappearance. Rumours were circulating that he was engaged to Eloise Bisset, but he denied everything once the war began._

_"They might be a French family, but their reputation stretches far beyond," Moody continued, "I've seen the terror and power they have with my own two eyes. Each and every Bisset-blooded wizard I have ever met has blood on their hands."_

_Harry huffed, "So, what are you saying?"_

_"We're saying," Sirius cut back in, leaning towards Harry, "That any Bisset is bad news. Their bloodline is built on prejudice. Their wealth? Unmeasurable, and that gives them far more power than any one family should wield. And if Madeline is the heir of that, she's not someone you should be around."_

_"And what about Fred?" Harry pressed, "She hasn't exactly tried to hex him or throw him off the viaduct."_

_"He shouldn't be dating her," Sirius shook his head, "Young love is blind and stupid, Harry. Do not trust her."_

_Unbeknownst to the four men, Fred Weasley had once more equipped his Extendable Ear to listen in to the conversation. And quite frankly, he wished he hadn't._

* * *

**Present Day  
The Gryffindor Tower**

"Dead girl walking coming through!" Fred announced playfully, hands on both of Madeline's shoulders as he steered her through the Gryffindor common room.

Madeline laughed, swatting his hands away as they took a seat on one of the sofas, "It's just detention."

It was the night of her detention, the clock slowly inching towards seven o'clock. Of course, the news of Harry's shouting match had travelled through Hogwarts at an unbeatable speed, Madeline's involvement following suit. Everyone eyed her with wary eyes, only deterred by Madeline's cold glares. No one dared whisper or gossip about her, not ever. Because quite frankly, everyone was scared of what the Slytherin could and would do.

Rain pounded on the windowpanes of the Gryffindor tower, as it had for the last two days. People were making their way down to dinner, the only people left in the tower being Madeline, Fred, George, Neville, Hermione, and Ron, all huddled around the fireplace.

"Dunno why they let the old hag teach us," Ron grumbled.

" _Because,_ no one ever wants the job. They say it's jinxed," Hermione pointed out as Madeline draped her legs over Fred's lap.

Although they'd only been back in Hogwarts for two days, Madeline and Fred were growing closer by the second. It seemed that distance really _did_ make the heart grow fonder, Fred lightly tracing the tops of her shins with his fingers as Madeline took the clipboard George had just handed her, looking over their dosages and ingredients in their newest product, _'Fainting Fancies_ '. She circled a couple of ingredients, writing suggested dosage adjustments before handing it back to George.

Ron and Hermione were both scribbling on different sets of parchments, no doubt trying to keep up with the masses of homework flooding in from their teachers. Madeline, Theo and Daphne had already made their way through the majority of it, a lone Charms essay waiting in Madeline's room for after her detention.

"Angelina is in a right strop with Harry," George mentioned, "He's going to have to miss tryouts for detention on Friday. She's pissed."

"As she should be," Fred nodded in agreement.

"It's not his fault she gave him detention," Ron argued.

"Yeah, but it's done us a right screw up," George pointed out, standing up and stretching his arms in the air, "I'm going to dinner. Anyone else?"

Ron grumbled but followed suit, tucking his parchment and quill away. Neville too followed, as well as Hermione as she signed the end of her parchment with a flourish. Fred and Madeline, however, stayed firmly planted on the Gryffindor sofa.

"I've eaten," Madeline shrugged, turning to her boyfriend, "You can go if you want, mind."

Fred shook his head, "I tested some of the Puking Pastilles. Don't really feel back to normal yet."

Madeline wrinkled her nose but nodded as the others made their way out of the common room, leaving the couple alone. Madeline sighed, leaning back into the sofa.

The Gryffindor common room was smaller than her own, but it was homely and cosy all the same. Banners with the Gryffindor crest hung from each wall, red fluffy blankets strewn over armchairs. It felt a little bit like warm hug from an aunt. She could easily fall asleep here, no problem.

"Don't fall asleep on me now," Fred teased, poking her side, as if he could read her mind.

Madeline rolled her eyes, lifting her head, "Entertain me before detention then."

Fred smirked, easily accepting the challenge. In an instant, he'd grabbed Madeline's ankles, sliding her forwards and onto his lap. She laughed, her head now on his shoulder and her legs dangling off the side.

"Awake now?" He teased, leaning down towards her face.

"Try again," Madeline challenged, her eyes falling shut as their lips met.

And _oh_ , she'd missed this.

It was a chaste kiss at first, barely anything to swoon over. But Madeline had grown… Rather _confident_ over the summer. Her hand snaked to the back of his head, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as she dove in for another kiss, pulling herself up and over, now straddling his lap.

Oh yes, she loved having a boyfriend.

The kisses weren't frantic. Fred's hands rested on her waist as their lips moved together, a smile on his face as both her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. His thumbs drew lazy circles over her hips, a quiet giggle leaving her mouth. Yep; Fred Weasley just made her giggle. She'd never admit it if you asked.

She laughed as his hands moved to her legs, pulling them closer to himself as he switched them over, Madeline's back on the sofa as he held himself over her. He continued to kiss her gently, the two breaking apart for a moment as their eyes met, lazy smiles on both of their faces.

"I missed you, you know?" Fred mumbled quietly, eyes warm.

Madeline rolled her eyes, "I missed you too, you idiot. Now, keep kissing me."

Fred didn't need any more encouragement, diving back in. Madeline's hands snaked back to his face, holding him close as his own hands braced himself above her. Once again, nothing felt rushed or frantic, the two just enjoying the time they had together.

His mouth made it's way to her cheek, leaving small little pecks as he moved downwards to her neck. He continued there, kissing the long expanse of her neck as she laughed into his ear. His tie dangled above her, her hand finding it to pull him down, the two now chest-to-chest.

Fred's eyebrows rose in surprise, his mouth moving back to find Madeline's lips. The kisses only became more heated as Fred's hands moved to Madeline's legs, guiding them up and around his waist.

And, _oh._ Yep, he was definitely enjoying this-

"Uh, guys?"

The two pulled apart immediately at the sound of Lee's voice, who was stood frozen at the entrance to the common room. Madeline quickly cleared her throat, adjusting her skirt and shirt collar, "Can we help you?"

"No, uh, you're fine," Lee stuttered, eyeing Fred's dishevelled appearance with a grin, "But glad to see Hogwarts' lovebirds are back."

Lee picked up the clipboard George had left on the coffee table, winking at Fred before walking back out of the common room. The couple sat in silence for a few moments, eyes finally meeting. Madeline's lip wobbled for a moment before the two burst into a heap of laughter.

Yep, he was forgiven alright.

* * *

Madeline hadn't had the chance to catch Harry after his detention. She'd left the Gryffindor common room ten minutes before her detention, having spent the last hour beating Fred in Wizard Chess over and over. She made her way to the office briskly, a couple of people eyeing her as she walked past. She simply flipped her hair, over her shoulder, much like Daphne often would, striding with her head held high and her nose to the sky.

When she arrived at the door of the office, she knocked for good measure. A sugary 'Come in!' followed. Madeline pushed the door open.

Merlin, she was going to be sick.

She'd been in the office once or twice last year, but this time, it looked completely unrecognisable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths, giving the room an eerie old-timely look. To add to this, there were several vases full of dried flowers (all pink), each one residing on its own doily (also, all pink), and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolour kitten wearing a different (pink) bow around its neck.

Madeline was no interior designer, but she'd seen better decor in the dungeons.

"Good evening, Miss Bisset," Umbridge smiled from her desk. She gestured to a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, "Will you take a seat?"

"Evening," Madeline replied stiffly, making her way to the table with her head held high. She took a seat slowly, the straight back of the chair making her sit up stiffly, uncomfortably. She was sure that was the whole point.

One of the ornamental plates on the wall behind her meowed. Literally, _meowed_ at her. She was sure this had to be a nightmare.

Umbridge stood, taking a few brisk steps to stand in front of Madeline, "So Miss Bisset, it seems from your little outburst in my class that you are rather… _Perturbed_ by the evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories Potter has been telling-"

"I don't quite believe they are lies, Professor," Madeline interrupted politely. If her grandmother had taught her anything, it was how to appear diplomatic in the most cunning, venomous way possible.

Umbridge sighed lightly, yet the smile on her face remained the same, "It would be in your best interest to listen to your elders, Miss Bisset. I should be keeping you for the rest of the week as I am with Mister Potter, but I believe you've been lead astray, something we should easily be able to correct in one evening, don't you agree?"

Madeline didn't reply. Umbridge continued, "Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Miss Bisset. Using a rather _special_ quill of mine. And no, you won't be needing any ink."

Madeline was halfway bending down to her satchel, but she pulled herself back up straight, watching as Umbridge picked up a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point from her desk. The quill was heavy and lined with silver, not much different to the ones her Uncle would use.

Umbridge tapped the parchment in front of her, placing the quill on top of it, "I want you to write, _'I must not believe lies.'_ "

"How many times?"

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in, darling," Umbridge smiled sweetly, moving back to her desk, "Off you go."

This didn't seem too bad. Sure, it absolutely disgusted her that the new Professor would even _suggest_ Cedric's fate to be a lie, but a couple of lines of parchment were the least of her worries. If she could stay in Umbridge's favour, she had a feeling this year would be much, much easier. And she'd really like more time to make out with her boyfriend, thank you very much.

Madeline placed the point of the quill on the parchment. Slowly, and with a lot of resentment, she began writing with neat calligraphy, _'I must not believe lies'._

She'd barely finished the line when her hand started to burn.

She let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Madeline's left hand, cut into her skin as though traced there by a scalpel.

Her eyes widened, the quill left lying on the page. After a few moments, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before, but bare from any cut.

"Is there a problem, Miss Bisset?" Umbridge asked sweetly, looking over to the girl.

Madeline swallowed. She needed to be smart; stay in her good books, get out of this room alive, and get the _hell_ to Snape's office as soon as possible.

"Nothing at all," Madeline smiled, taking a deep breath before returning to the parchment.

The same thing happened for the second line, and the third, and the fourth. The 'ink' on the parchment was nothing else but her own blood, she came to realise. Bisset blood, spilt on parchment like it was nothing, writing the death of her friend as a lie, like it was _nothing._

A prickling of tears began building behind her eyes at the thought. That Cedric's fate, whatever happened in that maze, would be amounted to nothing but lies and an old man's babble. But she wasn't about to show weakness, nor fear. She swallowed back the tears. She knew Umbridge was watching her, and she wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.

She didn't know how long it had been. Minutes, maybe hours. But by the time she'd filled the page, the words were now etched into her hand permanently. The skin didn't heal nor smooth over. Instead, she was left with her own handwriting glistening in blood on her hand.

' _I must not believe lies.'_

"Come here," Umbridge broke her musing gently, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face.

Madeline stood with her head held high, placing the parchment on Umbridge's desk. The 'ink' was still glistening in the candlelight of her office.

"Hand," Umbridge asked simply.

She extended it. Umbridge took it in her own, examining it. She repressed a shudder as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers. And _god,_ was that sparkly pink nail polish?

"Looks like it's left quite the impression on you," Umbridge smiled sweetly, letting her hand go, "Wonderful. Seems we won't be needing the extra detentions at all. You may go."

Madeline took a deep breath, calming herself. She needed to be smart.

"I hope we can turn a new leaf, Professor," Madeline smiled almost as sweetly as Umbridge did, making her own stomach churn, "I don't wish for my outburst to give you a bad impression of me."

Umbridge smiled, almost proudly, "Consider it done, Miss Bisset. Now, hurry along. You wouldn't want to get caught past curfew."

Madeline left her office without another word. The school was deserted; it was surely past midnight, if not later. She walked calmly down the third floor corridor, paintings eyeing her warily as her hands began shaking. She made it down to the bottom of the staircases, through the archway leading into the dungeons, before she broke down.

She grabbed at the brick dungeon walls, uncaring of the grime and odd wetness of the stones. She needed an anchor, something to hold onto as the last few hours came crashing onto her. Her necklace held a phantom burn as she clutched it, the metal pendant grounding her.

That woman. That- that _witch._ She'd tried to make her believe Cedric's death had been an accident, ignoring the clear signs that _something was coming._ That Harry Potter would have the nerve to _lie._ That _Dumbledore_ would have the nerve to lie. And more people were going to get hurt if _someone_ didn't do something about it.

She could feel a couple of tears on her face, but it didn't matter. She took a deep breath, composing herself, wiping her wet fingers on her robes, no doubt leaving smears of dirt on them. No, she wasn't going to be afraid, and like _hell_ was she going to let Umbridge ruin Cedric's memory.

She was a Bisset, and Bissets weren't afraid of anything.

* * *

"What happened to your hand?" Daphne asked the next morning, the trio sat together for breakfast once more.

Madeline took a large gulp of coffee, her left hand now bandaged tightly, "I slipped in the dungeons and scratched my hand up on my way back from detention last night. I put a tonic on it; it should heal in a day or two."

Daphne nodded in understanding, "I've done that before. Scraped my knee tripping on the step of the common room. It's like a bloody death trap down there."

Madeline felt sick to her stomach lying to her friends, but it had to be done. At least, until she could tell Dumbledore about it. She was not going to give Umbridge the satisfaction of hearing that she had complained what she'd done.

Her eyes wandered over to the Gryffindor table. Her boyfriend was huddled up with George and Lee, no doubt talking about whatever new product they'd thought of. Who she was looking for, however, was Harry Potter.

Who was nowhere to be seen.

She had to wonder; did Umbridge do the same to him?

"What did you do with Umbridge anyway?" Theo asked, stirring his porridge lazily.

Madeline shrugged nonchalantly, although she was sure Theo had picked up on her sudden tenseness, "Just made me do lines."

Theo didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press the matter. Instead, the three friends enjoyed their breakfast as they would every morning, Daphne chatting animatedly about anything and everything.

Madeline warily watched Umbridge sitting at the Professors table, spooning in heaps of sugar with her tea. The serene, happy smile on her face made Madeline sick.

She was going to wipe that smile of the old lady's face, no matter what.


End file.
